Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire
by Blueberry Blaster
Summary: When a top secret data disc is stolen by evil Gruumm, it is up to Bridge Carson, secret agent extraordinaire to find it. Now that it's been recovered, everything's back to normal. Or so they thought. One last secret remains, and perhaps, the deadliest....
1. Tomorrow Lives

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: Because this is the much more interesting fic to write than the re-write of Aftershock (okay, I admit it: I haven't even started to try to plan what's happening in that but the plan for this was done quite some time ago, and I was only just waiting to finish Sect of the Reaper before posting this. Bad things tend to happen when I post multiple incomplete fics, including never finishing them, and I'm _sure_ you don't want that to happen), this gets posted first.

Prepare for an action-packed fic with random spots of humour (I repeat, RANDOM) featuring most major S.P.D. characters, who have been completely repurposed for this fic. In essence, this is completely un-PR-ish. This chapter will only feature one recognisable character, but don't worry; the rest will be introduced soon. And should I mention that this is a very parody-ish fic on James Bond? Don't worry: if you do like James Bond, I'm not making fun of him. Enjoy, and I'm trying a new system where I only bother you at the start, not at the end. So have fun, leave plenty of reviews and I'll see you next time!

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

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**Time: 2125 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Suspected Apex Weapons Engineering facility.**

The night sky of Nevlae Octavus was both dark and bright at the same time. The darkness of the sky was offset by the brightness of the stars, as they shone down on one person making their careful way to the prominent structure of the Apex Weapons Engineering plant. Many of the chimneys were visible, still belching smoke despite it being past normal working hours. That alone was enough to gain attention from worker's rights activists (those people were damned near paranoid about anything that sounded like rights were being pushed), but the company also had a…history of shady dealings.

Bridge Carson couldn't understand why people would actively display their 'shady' dealings in broad daylight…or at least, use unencrypted messages. That was almost like a giant 'arrest me!' sign pointing straight at them. But, he couldn't control how idiotic some people were. No sir, he was just here to do his job.

Nevlae Octavus was a prime planet for exports. Lying along the intersection of many major trading routes between planets, companies and governments, its location allowed plenty of tired ship drivers to stop by and have a rest and refuel before taking off again on their long and arduous journey to wherever they were hauling their cargo. Not too mention it was also a good place to have stashes of completed products for exporting. However, being low on natural resources, it wasn't a particularly good place to have manufacturing plants, unless a company really wanted to lose large amounts of money importing raw materials necessary to complete such productions.

Bridge Carson, clad in black military clothing including an armoured vest that had plenty of pockets (you could never have one too many pockets were one of the two most important creeds he lived by: the other was toast) that suited the current darkness, approached the closed gate quietly. The gate was a typical laser fence, operated by the controls within the guardhouse. The streetlights shone down on him as he made his way down the street. A single guard sat in the guardhouse, his rifle lain across the desk, clearly visible. The desk itself was packed with a papers, Styrofoam coffee cups, soft drink cans and food containers. The guard himself was an alien, and didn't appear to be too concerned about what was going on around him as he read a magazine. The occasional hover car roared by, nearly running over Bridge who was nearly undetectable in the near-darkness.

Creeping up to within metres of the guardhouse undetected, Bridge continued around, crouching beneath the panes of glass, hearing the faint sounds of music coming from within. Reaching the door, he stood up and opened the door. The guard turned and was startled to see Bridge standing at the doorway.

"Hi," he said, before knocking the guard out. The guard slumped back into his chair, the blue imprint of Bridge's fist on his face starting to become darker. "Sorry, nothing personal," Bridge told the unconscious guard as he reached in, and tapped the buttons.

He accidentally hit the power off button for the lights a few times, turned off the music, switched the computer off, knocked out the cameras and accidentally completed a whole myriad of other things before he finally managed to hit the power off button for the laser fencing.

Disabling the fence, Bridge ran through the now-defunct gate and into the parking lot of Apex Weapons Engineering's facility. Bridge Carson was an agent of S.P.D., the premier law enforcement agency across the galaxy. More specifically, he was an agent of their intelligence division, and their top agent at that. He was a crack shot with a pistol and the man to call on in any situation, ranging from investigating suspicious activities to saving hostages and/or whole planets to pulling cats out of trees. Yes, he did that too but only on weekends. Unknown to him, he was also a big hit with the ladies, especially the receptionist, but he more or less so treated them as friends or associates. In fact, everyone at S.P.D. was either an associate of Bridge Carson, or a friend of him or a superior. Sometimes a few people fell into the unspoken 'all of the above' category.

Proceeding through the parking lot, Bridge mentally revised his plan and his objectives. The facility was well-guarded, and upon entering and confirming that there were illegal operations being ran at the plant, all he had to do was force all the people inside out, plant a homing device to signal the position of the plant to an S.P.D. ship, which would then proceed to blast the facility, and anyone still inside, into high orbit. Hopefully, there wouldn't be enough explosives at the facility for that to happen literally.

A pair of guards, who were at first chatting away at things such as low pay (maybe the worker's rights activists did have something to do), crappy hours, guns, music, women, saw the guardhouse booth darken and fence deactivate and die away. The pair moved closer as Bridge pulled over his eyes a pair of night vision glasses. They were useful little buggers: after all, reading in the dark without disturbing people was definitely a perk. Of course, sneaking through darkened parking lots with his funky new glasses too was another perk, as was infiltrating darkened facilities. With his vision now completely green and occasional spots of black, Bridge saw the two guards moving towards the gate and tried quietly crept past them, heading for the facility entrance.

Unfortunately, putting rubbish in the bin wasn't a concept that the guards around the place seemed to understand, as Bridge found out when he accidentally kicked away a beer can, crunched on another and crinkled a packet of...something on the ground. All of which made a very loud, conspicuous sound in the near soundless night. Which also drew the guards' attention to him.

"Hey!" the guards shouted, as they shone torches on him, and then started shooting.

Lasers sparked all across the parking lot as the guards took pot shots at the figure running across the yard. The explosions from the lasers slamming into the ground, parked cars and unused rubbish bins threw up sparks all over the place, making night vision now totally useless as Bridge yanked the glasses off and ran for the entrance. The two guards started to pursue him, shouting various things at him ranging from ordering him to stop, to that he was trespassing on private property to simply swearing at him and telling him to stand still as they ran.

With alarms now blaring, Bridge bolted through the door, just as a metal sheet came sliding down and sealed it off. More guards started to spill out of the other entrances, and Bridge only had to smack two around before he slid into the shadows again. There was another harsh grinding sound of screeching, unattended gears and hydraulics as another rusted, tarnished grate came down in front of the entrance he had come in, in addition to the already overwhelming security in front by the metal blast door.

"Great," he mumbled. Now how was he going to get out?

Continuing through the facility, he found a guard looking around in another guardhouse, and knocked him out with a blow to the head. Bridge managed to catch his body as it fell, and grunted as he heaved it into a darkened corner.

"What do they feed you here?" he asked himself, shaking his head and stretching his cramped arms, which were already freezing up trying to carry the sheer weight of the guard alone. It wasn't that he wasn't strong; after all, he was a secret agent of S.P.D.'s intelligence division, and they did have requirements for the qualifications of becoming one of their agents. One of those was that he worked out nearly everyday except for a few days when he rested. Seeing the doors to the next part of the facility, he walked onwards.

An unpleasant odour met him as he walked through the doors deeper into the plant. He brought a hand up to his nose, and tried to wave off the odour. Large vats filled some kind of liquid sat around the gigantic room, with catwalks ringing all sides and connecting several booths together. If the green smoke/vapour rising from the vats was any indication, it was obvious that Apex Weapons Engineering was up to no good.

Getting up and pulling himself up the stairwell that led to the next level's catwalk, Bridge kept to the shadows as he infiltrated deeper into the heart of the facility, his laser pistol still in his holster. He'd prefer to use it only when necessary.

"You there!" a guard shouted, running at him. "This is a restricted area!"

Bridge turned his head and saw the yellow sign that said in galactic basic 'Restricted Area: All non-employees prohibited. Trespassers will be prosecuted'.

"Oops," Bridge muttered as the guard came up. "Sorry, I didn't see the sign. I'm a bit short sighted you know, so I didn't see it until you just pointed it out."

As the guard got closer, he got a better view of Bridge. "Wait a second, you're the intru…!"

Bridge punched the guard before he could finish the sentence.

"Shh! Keep it down!" he said, before noticing he had knocked the guard out. "Oops. And they say _I_ have a big mouth."

Continuing on, Bridge soon found himself at one of the booths that lined the enormous room. There was a guard, who got up as Bridge entered.

"You're not allowed in here!" he said, raising the baton he carried and walked towards Bridge.

Bridge waited, and as the guard swung he ducked underneath the baton, and fell to the floor, sweeping the guard's legs out from under him. The guard crashed to the ground, slamming his head against the floor and falling unconscious. Bridge dragged his body over to a corner, and propped him up against it.

"Why does everyone say I'm not invited?" wondered Bridge as he moved to the computer, sat down at the guard's chair and started to open folders and files, to find what he was looking for. As he did so, he screwed up his face, as he usually did when thinking. Moving the mouse with one hand, he used his now-free other hand to scratch his head until he had found the right and proper files. "Ah, got it."

Opening a file, he started to read…

_From: Apex Management Board of Directors, verification code 001015_

_To: Manufacturing Facility 027 Managing Board_

_Subject: Experimental weapons development_

_/Start File/_

_What is the progress on the new weapons that you have been developing? We have received your request for additional resources, but we cannot grant it until more satisfactory progress has been made._

_Another matter is that the higher ups seem to believe that they have granted you more than enough materials, men and time to at least produce satisfactory results. They are higher up than me, Anton, and they will start to pressure, believe me._

_More pressing is the time you have taken. Castillo isn't going to wait much longer for these weapons, and they're threatening to cut off the deal. You'd better get some work done there on those chemicals. If not, it's your job and your ass on the line, in the end._

_/End File/_

Bridge whistled as he read through the letter. There it all was, Apex's illegal development of chemical weapons, and the proof was right in front of him. Taking out a disc, he inserted it into the hard drive and copied it all. He nervously started to tap the table as the bar signifying the completion status of the copy filled up. Eventually, the bar filled up, and the words 'copy complete' filled the screen. Taking the disc out, Bridge quickly removed any traces of tampering with the machine—not that it was going to matter, with the facility marked to be blown to high heaven.

There was shouting and commotion outside the door to the booth as Bridge finished up on the computer. Thrusting the disc back into his pocket, Bridge leapt away just as a storm of laser fire flew through the door, destroying the computer and conveniently removing any traces he had on it. He kicked a guard in the chest as he ran through the door. The force propelled the guard back into the others, knocking them down like a line of dominoes. There was shouting as they tried to get up as Bridge leapt out of the booth, grinning.

He landed safely on another catwalk and started running again. Taking out a tracking beacon, which now also served as a targeting beacon, he activated it and threw it down, relieved when it didn't fall into the vats of…whatever. He didn't really want to think about what was in there. The smell alone was bad enough, and even if it wasn't chemical weapons, he'd still have the entire place blown up for violating galactic hygiene regulations.

"Stop!" another guard shouted, raising his weapon and firing at Bridge.

"Oh man," Bridge moaned as he started to run again, this time with lasers sparking all along the catwalk behind him. "Run here, run there. Glad I didn't eat that toast earlier."

A guard appeared in front of him, and Bridge tried to stop, but ended slamming into the guard, knocking them both down. Bridge got up first, and grabbed the guard's rifle, and started running, accidentally stepping on the guard's foot. With the howls of pain behind him, Bridge sprayed a series of bolts at the guards taking positions at the catwalks on the other side. The sparks threw off their aim as they ducked to avoid his deliberately missed shots and simply ran screaming. Some of the guards here definitely weren't up to standard.

Bridge saw more guards accumulating in front of him, some kneeling, others standing, but all with their rifles raised all the same. Not stopping, Bridge slung the laser rifle over his shoulder, and gripped the railing tightly as he swung himself over, and dangled from the side. The guards' shouts in his ears, he dropped down…onto the catwalk below him and kept running.

He grunted and stumbled back a few steps when a guard ran around the corner, slamming into each other. They stumbled back as the footsteps grew louder and the guard rose up and pointed his weapon at Bridge.

Bridge however, had a different plan.

"Think fast!" he said, throwing the rifle at the guard.

The guard dropped his own weapon, and caught the rifle Bridge had tossed to him, looked up just as Bridge kicked him and ran past the guard, who had raised his hands to his face. Reaching a PA system inside a booth, Bridge pressed the button after locking the doors and jarring it with a chair.

"Attention everyone. This is S.P.D. We have a ship overhead, and they are preparing to blow this facility into high orbit really, really soon. So if I were you, I'd be running for the exits."

There was quiet as the guards stopped shooting, but no one moved.

Bridge, annoyed, raised his communicator to the PA, and activated it, sending the captain of the S.P.D. vessel's voice over the PA and across the facility.

"This is the S.P.D. vessel _Boundless_. We have a good lock on your position, Agent Carson. Weapons systems are eighty five percent functional, and are preparing to fire. I recommend that you get the hell out of there, _now_."

There was quiet again, and then complete and total pandemonium as guards, workers and scientists started to run for the exits, screaming. Bridge grinned, as he too ran for the exit, passing by other people who paid no mind to him, only to the fact that _very_ soon, the facility was going to be turned into scrap metal.

* * *

**Time: 2145 hours, galactic standard time / Location: S.P.D. frigate _Boundless_, in orbit over Nevlae Octavus**

High in orbit of the planet, the small S.P.D. vessel _Boundless_ continued to charge its weapons systems, as they received information from Bridge.

"Sir, transmission from Agent Carson. He's got the information," said one of the officers on the bridge, walking over and handing a blue-lit pad to the captain, who stood at the front of the bridge.

"Very good. How are the weapons? Are they ready to fire?"

"In one minute."

"Give everyone down there two. Then give them the firework show of their lives," said the captain, sitting down and reading through the stolen report. "Apex is going down boys. Make sure the weapons will burn off the chemicals still inside."

"Yes sir, two Firestorm torpedos are locked and loaded."

"Are the Rangers down there?"

"Yes sir. They're ready to nab the personnel as soon as they leave."

"Good. Look's like this went off without a hitch," said the captain, watching the screens.

* * *

Bridge ran, the night air cool and refreshing to his face after being stuck in the facility with the deadly chemicals.

"Fresh...air!" he gasped, as he slowed outside the gate.

He could see S.P.D. Rangers, at least five squads in standard S.W.A.T. gear arresting the guards, scientists and workers. Shuttles were visible behind them as they started to fence off all of the boundaries. Thankfully, the parking lots that surrounded the facility were quite large, and nobody else was around, though more civilians were starting to gather.

One of the Red Rangers walked up to him as he doubled over, exhausted from the running from the guards, the fighting and the adrenaline-fuelled mad dash out of the soon-to-be-non-existent facility.

"Agent Carson?" he asked.

"Yes?"

"Sir, you're wanted back at Central HQ by Commander Cruger."

"Thank you," Bridge said waving at the Red Ranger. "I'll go after the fireworks."

"I'll inform the shuttle to wait for you then, sir."'

Bridge nodded as he slowly recovered. The Red Ranger he had just talked to walked off, shouting orders to the other Rangers, who had the scientists, workers and guards herded into a single large gathering, pushing them towards the waiting shuttles.

There was a brief _boom_, and soon, two comets were descending from the skies. Every eye watched in fascination as the comets raced towards the facility.

"Get back!" shouted another Red Ranger, as everyone moved back.

The two torpedos slammed into the facility, before blossoming into a fireball that turned into a firestorm, consuming anything that was within the facility and turning it into ashes. The fire was hot enough so that the ashes themselves would be burnt into ashes…which didn't make sense, Bridge thought.

Bridge, shaking his head but satisfied, moved back to the smaller, more luxurious shuttle as the teams of Rangers herded the arrested people into the larger shuttles, and boarded it. He was headed back to some sort of home.


	2. Introductions

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: Well, I hope you enjoyed the last chapter. I want to say because this isn't a 'true' PR fic, that not all of the characters will be like what you see in the show. In fact, I think that many of them are OOC…but it is to be expected. I hope you can live with that! Most of the main characters are now introduced in this chapter. And also, I warn you, the chapter lengths are probably going to be a bit…random. Okay, not random, just really, really strange in that one week's chapter may be quite short, and then the next week's much, much longer. Or it could be the other way around. But however, I'll try not to make chapters shorter than two thousand words each. Maybe it'll drop to a thousand a week or two, or for a couple of chapters, but we'll see. Thanks for all the reviews last chapter, and once again, review and I'll see you next week!

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

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Time: 0925, galactic standard time / Location: S.P.D. Central Command. Field HQ for all S.P.D. forces deployed in this sector of the galaxy.

Bridge whistled a mindless tune as he made his way down the shining, spotless halls of S.P.D. Central Command HQ from the docking bay, where he had came from. He passed by many other cadets or officers, some of who he knew, others he didn't. But the majority of them he knew. Some of them were Rangers, either coming back from a mission, or otherwise leaving on one to different parts of the galaxy, keeping order. Others were technicians, the people who Bridge thought weren't given enough attention for all the important work they did, fixing the HQ when things went down or wrong, or assisting the engineers in repairing damaged shuttles or equipment.

The HQ itself was a space station, and a state of the art one, with all the latest technology straight from the R&D labs. In fact, only S.P.D. Galaxy Command was more advanced than it, and for a good reason.

S.P.D. Galaxy Command was the HQ of all S.P.D. bases. Galaxy Command issued all the standardised technology, the current rules and regulations of S.P.D. and obeyed the order of the main governing body of the galaxy. In comparison, S.P.D. Central Command was the base of operations for S.P.D. operations, such as patrolling certain sectors of the galaxy, to launching raids on suspected facilities and keeping peace when or where Chimera didn't do so. Basically, S.P.D. Central Command oversaw the dirty grunt work whilst Galaxy Command oversaw the whole of S.P.D. as an organisation.

Walking out of the hallways and into the lobby of S.P.D. Central Command, Bridge was greeted by light music, a clean as always room, paintings hung up on the walls, and a sea of other beings who were in the lobby, all of them wearing either the white uniform of a technician/engineer, or the black-navy blue uniform of the cadets. There were a number of other people dressed in grey jackets with strips of colour wandering around as well: the Rangers. There were also numerous desks around the lobby, each having a person sitting there, and numerous halls and corridors behind them that led to different parts of the station.

"Hey big boy," the receptionist greeted flirtatiously as Bridge passed her towards the corridor to the offices where most of the higher ups made their decisions.

"Hi Lisa," he greeted. "How're things going?"

"Everything's gotten better now that you're here," she said with a wink.

"That's good," Bridge said absentmindedly, picking up the new flyer on the desk and reading through it, nodding as he did so. "Cruger wanted to see me?"

Lisa sighed, knowing her attempts at seducing Bridge had failed…again.

"Yes, he did. Very soon in fact," she said.

"Alright. Well, see ya later. Cruger's going to be mad if I'm late," Bridge said.

"Catch ya later, big boy!" Lisa called after him.

As Bridge proceeded down the hallways, he started to clean up his appearance, making sure that his uniform was tucked in, that his hair was neat, his gloves were on properly and that were no stains on his uniform. After all, the toast he had on the way back was buttered very well, and it could have soaked through. He also checked to make sure that the badge he wore was straight. Maybe that was a bit _too_ far, but with Cruger, one never knew, and Bridge always thought it was better to be safe than sorry. But Cruger never took 'sorry' from anyone as well…

Cruger never tolerated anything less than perfection from his officers when it came to appearance, and God knows what would happen to _him_, the premier agent of the intelligence department, if _he_ came in looking anything less than perfect.

Bridge, and many more as well, never quite understood why Cruger was so adamant about appearance. But they still respected him. _Everyone_ respected Commander Cruger. After all, ever since he had taken the position of Commander (close to ten years ago), success rates for operation rates had skyrocketed up, and casualty rates among officers and cadets had dropped significantly (it should be noted that operational costs had also gone down, much to the many cadets displeasure as any of the operational costs savings were diverted to creating harder training courses).

A team of five harried looking officers ran out from the corridor ahead, all looking terrified. Bridge noted that it was similar to the look people had in when they were running in terror from missed bolts (as well as the looks the people at the facility had when they heard that it was going to be blown to high heaven), and assumed the worse, and that was that Cruger was in a bad mood.

Bridge saw the door to Cruger's office, and gulped, nervousness forming at the bottom of his stomach, from the fact that Cruger was in a bad mood and that he was talking to Cruger, who never ceased to be scary, despite having worked with him for quite awhile. He supposed that being a massive, big blue dog with sharp teeth was kind of a hard figure to not be scared of but nevertheless, he always used to and still did occasionally, especially after a mission. He stepped forward and placed his ID card against the scanner to the right of the door. It beeped once, twice, three times, and then the door opened.

When he entered, he saw Commander Cruger sitting at his desk, looking at and reading through the reports. Bridge saw that one of them was the copy of the letter he had taken from the facility on Nevlae Octavus. Sky Tate, a tall person with short-cropped blonde hair and second in command of S.P.D Central HQ, stood behind Cruger, his arms behind his back. He was a good friend of Bridge's, and still continued to be.

"Commander Cruger sir!" Bridge said, saluting.

"At ease," Cruger said, looking up. "Good to see you Carson. Good job with the facility last night."

"Thank you," Bridge replied, relaxing his stance.

"Sit, Carson," Cruger gruffly said, gesturing to a chair.

Bridge sat down as Sky walked up.

"Your report last night was all that was needed to seal the final nail to the coffin for Apex," said Sky. "It's all over the news right now."

He turned on the monitor on the wall to the left of Bridge, and the image of a reporter appeared on the screen, with images of the Apex Weapons Engineering facility he had infiltrated burning and then showing it as little more than a pile of burnt metal and ash. Firestorm torpedos were very devastating…

"_In stunning news today, Apex Weapons Engineering was shut down. There are unconfirmed reports that the controversial company known for its brutal policies, was discovered to have dealings with terrorist organisations and were developing chemical weapons," _said the reporter_. _

"_In a raid on two of its facilities by S.P.D. and Chimera, the company has lost millions of dollars, and are on the verge of bankruptcy. However, it is rumoured that the very recently announced public conference by Gruumm Armaments, Inc. has something to do with the company. In other news…"_

The drab tone of the reporter was cut off when Sky turned off the channel. He flicked over to a few other channels, all of which were reporting the incident, before finally turning off the monitor.

"Chimera, sir?" Bridge asked.

"Chimera too has raided another Apex facility, and also found the makings of chemical weapons as well as documents pertaining to their association with illegal terrorist groups," Cruger said sourly.

"I see sir…but I don't get how that is bad at all," Bridge said.

"I never said it was a bad thing," Cruger deadpanned. "I'm just saying that we do not always agree on the right things, as you would know by now."

Chimera was the name of the other galaxy police force. However, unlike S.P.D., they were rarely public faces and could barely be classified as 'police'. They stayed out of the public and media eye, and were more espionage and intelligence orientated than S.P.D., which did most things from law enforcement to intelligence. That much was obvious through Chimera's use of Black Ops squads to handle situations such as destruction of key targets, occasional policing and also as regular army grunts…even though they were admittedly a lot better trained and equipped than most planetary armies. Their Black Ops rivalled S.P.D.'s Rangers in terms of skill, coolness and sheer arrogance, all of which were trademarks of Rangers. Their agents, similar to Bridge, were seldom seen and used for complete destruction of facilities or otherwise near impossible missions. The two had never gotten along too well; with Chimera's tendency to use force more than S.P.D.'s relatively more peaceful ways, the two agencies often clashed with each other.

"And the conference announced by Gruumm Armaments?" Bridge asked.

"You'll be going, to keep an eye and ear out for things," Cruger said.

"When is it?"

"In ten hours. You have five to get ready, and it'll take five hours to get there. Dismissed," Cruger said.

* * *

**Time: 1025 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Chimera Mobile HQ _Phoenix_, 17 light years from Miondi**

Chimera's preference to stay out of the public eye was obvious in that it never had a fixed location. The agency's HQ was a mobile ship. In actual fact, the term _ship_ didn't quite fit the description. At a staggering nine hundred and eighty four metres long, _ship_ seemed quite inadequate for a vessel that size. In reality, the ship was really more of a mobile fortress that served as their HQ. It was named the _Phoenix_.

The _Phoenix_ carried everything it needed within itself. Sleeping quarters, mess halls, recreational rooms and firing ranges were fairly normal for a ship to have. But the _Phoenix_ even had a park, complete with a small stream and an artificial sky and sun, which changed according to the time of day. Complete with sporting areas, a pool and even a small shopping mall, the _Phoenix_ was home for all its occupants.

But all that meant nothing much to Kat Manx as she made her way through the corridors of the Phoenix, the expression on her stunning face neutral. Dressed in a black shirt with the Chimera patch on the left shoulder, and a matching black skirt that went down to just above her knees and high heeled boots, Kat never failed to turn heads. A surviving Sphinxian, Kat was one of only two known Sphinxians, and both of them served onboard the _Phoenix_.

Kat would have looked like an ordinary human had someone just glanced at her from a significant distance away. Closer, her cat-like ears, protruding through her wild mane of dark hair were visible, as were her inhumanly bright green eyes and the scattering of spots on her cheeks. When she smiled (which was rare), the tips of her razor sharp fangs were visible. All of it added to the air she seemed to carry around her. Kat was the top agent of Chimera, having a success rate of nearly one hundred percent (the number was so close to a hundred that it was often regarded as a hundred instead of the ninety nine point something that it was).

Her ears allowed her to catch the faint whispers of conversations that the Black Ops soldiers were having. Dressed appropriately to their name, and their helmets tucked under their arm, they were trained to be professional soldiers, the elite. Some of their conversation related to her; others didn't, but either way, Kat ignored it all.

Passing by a locker room and into a mess hall on her way to the Commander's office, Kat walked past the eating Black Ops soldiers without incident, until she nearly reached the end, when one of the human Black Ops soldier got up and foolishly stood in her way, his helmet off but every other aspect of his combat gear on.

"Ah, Kat," he said, eyeing her. "You look very beautiful today."

Kat tried to walk around him, but he kept stepping in the way as most of the eyes, either a pair, two pairs or even four, in the hall swivelled to watch the confrontation between them.

"Thank you, glad I haven't changed. Now out of my way," she growled, her frustration growing.

"When you agree for dinner," Corporal Jones 'Longfang' Chavez said, grinning. He reached out to touch her face. "Or you could just skip the preliminary stuff and meet me in my room…"

Kat turned her head away from his approaching hand, and swung her arm at him. As he ducked, she used her other hand to grab his arm and twisted. As he grimaced in pain, she grabbed his other arm as well, and pushed back, placing her own leg in the way so he tripped. He let out a surprised yelp as he fell back onto the table as group of others scrambled out of the way, throwing up food trays that splattered the unlucky.

Jones had barely known what was happening. All he felt was a sharp pain in his arm, before he felt a cold, hard surface meet his back. He realised he had been slammed back first onto the table as Kat grabbed his combat knife, and brought it down…on his uniform, right next to his neck. The knife stuck up in the air, as Kat grabbed the other combat knife he kept, and also slammed it into his left arm's uniform sleeve, pinning him to the table as he struggled to escape.

"Crazy bitch," he grunted as she started to walk away, trying to yank the knife out, but with his left arm pinned, and the other knife on his right, he couldn't reach the knife, no matter how hard he tried.

"Wrong animal," Kat shot back, storming out of the mess hall to the sounds of Jones struggling against his impromptu bounds, a scowl on her feline face.

* * *

"Ah, Agent Manx," greeted the commander's aide. "Beutat is expecting you."

"Thank you," Kat said, walking into the open door, still a little inflamed at the small scuffle in the mess hall. On the other hand, she felt satisfied at having humiliated Chavez, one of the most arrogant Black Ops ever in front of every one in the hall. She stood in front of the commander as the doors closed behind her.

Beutat was a short, stocky (and a little podgy, Kat admitted to herself) alien with creamy coloured skin, a balding head and a pair of tusks on either side his chin. He was the commander of Chimera as a whole, with no one ranked higher than him, but they still took orders from the galactic governing body. No one knew his rank, so most people just referred to him as Commander or Beutat. Either way, he didn't seem to mind what people called him, as long as they were a) part of Chimera and not a bunch of greenies, b) had a good operational record (of at least sixty percent) and c) they respected him

"Ah Kat," he said, smiling. "Sit down, sit, sit," he said, motioning at the chair.

"No thank you sir."

"Suit yourself. Oh, at ease," he said, and Kat relaxed a bit. "I heard there was an incident in the mess hall..." he started, searching her eyes.

"It was just Corporal Chavez, sir. He provoked me into pinning him to the table," Kat coolly answered, as Beutat grinned.

"Back to the task at hand, I want to say just what a bloody brilliant fine job you did with the Apex facility yesterday," he started. "Took out the whole place with explosives by yourself, without needing Black Ops support. Well, I can't say for Lt. Lancal but I think that is one heck of an achievement."

"Thank you," Kat said, allowing a small, slightly seductive smile grace her lips.

Beutat cleared his throat nervously and turned away, willing the redness in his cheeks to go away. Downing a mug of coffee, he soon recovered enough to sit back and talk to Kat again without the redness in his face.

"As I was saying, you did a fantastic job by yourself. However, S.P.D. has also conducted a similar operation on another Apex plant, and the combination of the evidence we have was too much for Apex. They've all but reached bankruptcy, but Gruumm Armaments, Inc. is holding a very recently announced public conference."

"And you want me to be there?" Kat asked.

"You just took the words right out of my mouth," he grinned.

"When do I leave?"

"We're already headed there, but as you can imagine, we won't be going all the way. We'll take you a few systems out, where you can take one of the shuttles there. You will need something a great deal fancier than what you are wearing now, of course. These people either don't or can't hold causal events for the life of them. Going there in your uniform I imagine, would cause quite a scene."

Kat nodded, thinking about what she had in her wardrobe that could suit the event. Luckily, she had quite a bit in there, though quite a bit of that was her standard-issue military garb.

"Dismissed Kat, and don't worry about the incident in the mess hall. I'll sort it all out with the good corporal," he said as Kat turned and left. He didn't try to hide the fact that he was watching her as she left.

* * *

**Time: 1530 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Miondi, Vaughtin Business and Conference Hall**

The conference hall on the renowned business world of Miondi was packed full of people, Bridge noted as he stepped out of the sleek S.P.D. business shuttle, which was carefully driven away by a chauffeur. S.P.D. had been one of many businesses invited to the conference, which Bridge had a feeling was going to be more of an announcement.

He followed the stream of chatting, well dressed people and suited ushers into the large room, which was already lined with tables and waiters on the sides with refreshments and small snacks. Already news and media crews had arrived, and were setting up their cameras, recorders and other such devices.

There was a large gathering of seats at the front of the hall, located in front of a stage which had a stand. The logo of Gruumm Armaments, Inc. was displayed on the stand and also behind it. A female usher came up, and asked for his invitation, which he displayed. She led him to his seat, near the back along with a few other law enforcement agencies. As Bridge sat down, he took notice of the other people, all dressed up, and any potential threats.

Kat Manx, dressed in low cut, dark blue dress offered her usher a polite smile and a quick 'thank you' as she was led to her seat. Sitting down next to a representative of Soltech Engineering Systems, the representative almost immediately engaged her in a conversation about herself, Soltech, himself and anything and everything except for the reason that she and everyone else was here for. Kat smiled politely and listened, nodding and letting out a soft laugh at one of the weak jokes that the representative made. At the back of the room, media crews were setting up cameras to record the event.

Once everyone had been seated and quiet filled the hall except for the occasional whisper, an alien, dressed in a black suit with small insect-like wings on his back came out.

"And now ladies and gentlemen," he started, a buzz in his voice. "Mr. Gruumm of Gruumm Armaments, Inc."

There was applause as Gruumm came up. In his traditional skeletal warrior armour, Gruumm looked intimidating, but he had attached a red tie to his armour, which looked ridiculous on the drab armour. He cleared his throat as he stood up, his imposing figure capturing the attention of the people present as well as the cameras and recorders.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," Gruumm began. "I thank you all for being here today despite the extremely short notice. As many of you may know, only recently, Apex Weapons Engineering was caught in a scandal involving sales of outlawed weapons to illegal groups. I, as we all, condemn such an act, but before you forget, there are many thousands people employed at various Apex facilities strewn across the galaxy. Were the company be lost, all these poor souls would have no livelihood to support their families and their children. As a result, Gruumm Armaments, Inc. has acquired Apex Weapons Engineering. The board of directors will not be kept, but all employees will be ensured a position within Gruumm Armaments Inc."

There was a brief silence before the applause began, slowly, but slowly it started to build up in volume as more people joined.

"Quite the speaker, isn't he?" quietly asked the Soltech representative to Kat as they clapped.

"Yes, quite," Kat answered. Deep down, she wondered how true the statement really was, as Bridge, on the opposite side of the room to her wore a confused frown as Gruumm continued on with his speech.


	3. Stolen

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: Was it just me or did Kat act kind of robotic last chapter? But then again, this is a completely different universe, and if I wasn't using the characters from S.P.D. this could have been an original fic. And this is a semi-parody of everything James Bond, keep that in mind. And also of a bit of Ratchet and Clank 3, with the Secret Agent Clank and all that. I always want to tell you that I'm changing my writing style a bit. Those who have read my previous stories should know that I'm damn near fanatical about how I write, with capitals only at the beginning and never using '?!' But, I think the changes are going to be very minor, so you probably won't notice it. I think that this is my best chapter yet. Go me. Review please, especially since I have my exams! Wish me luck (I'll need it), and I'll see you next week!

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

**

* * *

**

Time: 1215 hours, galactic standard time / Location: S.P.D. Central HQ, Commander Cruger's office

"He's what?" Cruger demanded.

Bridge sighed. "I'm not quite sure why it's so shocking, but Gruumm has just bought Apex and dumped the original directors."

"This just means that Gruumm has gotten an even bigger piece of the market," Cruger said. "His company's large enough already without having to buy another company, but doing so, he's now got almost forty seven percent of the weapons development market."

Weapons development was a very large market, with all the planetary governments needing to supply their armed forces, and S.P.D. and Chimera needing weapons as well. Several conventions had outlawed certain weapons, such as biological, chemical and nuclear weapons. Soon after Earth had opened its doors to the wider galaxy and accepted the conventions, many of the nuclear warheads had been dismantled but a few had been stolen. S.P.D. and Chimera had spent a significant amount of time chasing the thieves and nabbing the warheads back.

"And how is this bad?" Bridge asked, screwing up his face.

"We don't know," Cruger sighed.

"Ah…okay, I guess," Bridge said. "So, what do you have for me next?"

"Nothing yet," Cruger said. "But expect to get something soon."

"Cool," Bridge said, turning to leave, before turning around and saluting, blushing. "Sorry sir."

Cruger shook his large head. "Dismissed, Carson."

He needed aspirin, and fast. Bridge wasn't too bad, but a previous lax squad of Rangers had been particularly infuriating, _and_ he had another two meetings with the worst squads in a row. It'll be a miracle if he lived through this with his sanity intact…

* * *

Bridge walked out of his office, and found Sky in the corridor, pulling on his jacket.

"Hey Sky," he greeted.

"Bridge. How are things?"

"Good. I got a couple of hours free. You wanna get some lunch or something?"

"Sorry Bridge," Sky said, starting down the hall with Bridge following. "I got a lot to do. Need to talk to Syd before leaving."

"Where are you leaving to?" Bridge asked.

"Nothing specific," Sky answered. "Sorry Bridge. It's kinda classified, but I'm sure you'll find out soon enough anyway."

"Well, alright. Catch ya later."

"See ya Bridge."

Sky walked into the Infirmary, giving a few greetings to the people he knew who were in there.

"Syd?" he called out.

"Yeah, what is it?" grumpily asked the small, blonde haired woman. "Oh, Sky!"

She ran forward, and wrapped the taller man in a hug.

"How are you doing?" Sky asked, kissing the top of her head.

"Fine. What about you?"

"I'm…ah, getting deployed. Just on a routine mission," he added quickly, seeing her face. "I'll be back before you know it."

"And why are you telling me this?"

"Just so you don't worry about me and end up bugging Bridge or the Commander about it," Sky said.

"Aw, thanks," Syd said, smiling.

"Anytime. Thought that we could get out together a little when I get back," Sky said. "Just for lunch, or maybe dinner if I'm late."

"What about Cruger?" Syd frowned.

"I'll take care of that," Sky said. "I've got to get ready now. See ya Syd."

"Bye, keep safe," Syd called back after him as he left.

Once out of the Infirmary, Sky headed for his equipment locker. Just because he was the second in command at S.P.D. Central HQ didn't mean that he couldn't lead troops into battle. Far from it. In fact, he led more operations than some other high ranking people here, and had the bruises to show.

Reaching the room, he found close to twenty other people at their lockers, changing out of their uniforms into more appropriate clothing suited to battle, or people changing out of their battle uniform into the uniform that they wore around the HQ. Inputting his code, Sky opened his locker and changed.

"Hey sir!" called a person as Sky looked around.

A team of five Rangers walked up, most already dressed and geared up.

"Do we go in light or heavy?" the one in red asked.

"You'll need the S.W.A.T. equipment," Sky answered. "So go for heavy."

"Thank you sir."

**

* * *

**

Time: 14**45 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Headhunter's Tavern, Onyx **

"Just another drink. It's on me," said the heavyset, tusked alien to the far smaller and thinner one, who looked more like a business man than someone who belonged here.

He nodded, and accepted the mug.

"A toast to…what are we toasting again?" he slurred heavily, and swaying side to side drunkenly.

"Everything!" his companion exclaimed.

They drank again, and this time, the smaller alien stood up, swayed drunkenly for a moment and then toppled. He hit the ground with a barely audible _thud_ as his companion chuckled. He ducked his head as a person came flying over him, the sounds of a brawl the next level up not quite overtaking the sounds of the band playing.

The band stopped playing all of a sudden as another thin, blue and red skinned alien walked into the tavern on Onyx, holding a small case. His brightly coloured purple hair was an absolute mess, sticking out at odd angles and frizzy. But nevertheless he kept walking to the central podium, where the band quickly shifted.

This was what he had been waiting for. He had indirectly knocked out one of the potential buyers in the auction, and this time, the item was worth a great deal. He could potentially make millions out of it.

"Listen up!" shouted the auctioneer. "Right in my hand, I have the most desired item in the galaxy. This data disc," he said, opening the case revealing a gold and red data disc with a mark of a silver eagle, "can give you the ultimate power in the galaxy! Of course, you'll have to decipher it first, which we do not provide."

There was murmuring among the people at the auction as the words of the auctioneer started to spark interest. Everyone here was interested in galaxy-wide domination: after all, this was Onyx, hive of all people interested in domination of some kind or another.

Bids started to flow in as some started with only double digit bids, before moving onto three digit sums. He waited, until the bids slowly got higher and started to slow down as the sums surpassed the amount of money some of the people in the room had.

Finally, just as he was about to place the winning bid, the doors to the tavern burst open and in strode a tall human with short cropped blonde hair, followed by two teams of armed and armoured Rangers.

"S.P.D., this auction's over!" he shouted.

No sooner had 'S.P.D.' left his mouth did complete and utter chaos start up. Some of the people in the room screamed and dove out of windows to escape while others ran at the intruders, intent on exacting revenge for whatever reason.

Sky kicked away one attacker as his squads started to be attacked on all sides. He threw another into a table, which promptly collapsed under the weight of the alien, hurling the alien into the ground as the bartender stood up, an old-fashioned shotgun in his hands, screaming incomprehensible expletives while shooting near randomly. A shotgun blast bit a huge chunk out of the wall next to Sky's head as the auctioneer ran.

"Get that auctioneer!" Sky bellowed. "Oof!"

Sky was tackled to the ground by a massive alien who started to attack him, pummelling him mercilessly with his fists.

"Sir!" shouted one of the Red Rangers, starting towards him.

Another alien took a dive from the balcony above and also tackled the Red ranger to the ground. He let out a yelp as he hit the ground with an alien on top, who started to punch the Ranger to little or no effect thanks to the weak power of the alien and the helmet.

"Help! Sir! I'm getting my ass kicked here!"

Sky would have rolled his eyes, had he not been trying to get the alien off him.

"I'm busy getting my own ass kicked here!" he snapped back, before the second Red Ranger came up and pulled the alien off him, before punching the alien back into the crowd.

"Thank you!" Sky gasped as he got up.

During the scuffle between S.P.D. and several of the people, a number of different patrons turned to each other and started to attack each other as well, in retaliation for almost everything imaginable. The band started up another merry song as fists and bodies flew, lasers scorched walls and the number of people passed out on the floor due to drinks, knockout blows and sheer terror, sometimes all three, accumulated.

Seeing the auctioneer, Sky ran over to him, but was stopped when a really, really tall alien got in his way, slamming a fist together. Not in the mood for another wrestling match, Sky stomped on the alien's foot, and as the alien howled in pain, he pushed the alien over, toppling and knocking him into another group of aliens who were busy punching each other out, bowling all of them over.

Jumping up onto a table, Sky leapt up, narrowly avoiding having his legs blown off by a blast from the bartender's shotgun, and landed in front of the scared auctioneer.

"I'll take that," Sky growled, yanking the case holding the data disc away and checked inside to make sure the disc was there.

Looking around after checking, Sky saw brawls everywhere he looked. On the level above, people were being tossed down on a regular basis, screaming as they hit the floor, other brawlers and tables/chairs indiscriminately. Several of his Rangers were also mixed up in the mess, kicking, punching and being kicked and punched as they tried to fight their way out of the mess. The whole situation had degenerated from a relatively (compared to others) calm auction into a chaotic melee of flying fists, feet and people.

Running full sprint, and elbowing several fighters out of the way, Sky reached the small perimeter his Rangers had established, panting.

"I think we should let them figure this out on their own," one of the yellow Rangers said, firing a few lasers into the ceiling to scare off a few potential attackers.

"Best idea I've heard in a long time Cadet," he panted. "Round up the rest of your squad, and let's get the hell outta here."

* * *

**Time: 1****220 hours, galactic standard time, following day / Location: Cafeteria, S.P.D. Central HQ **

Bridge sighed as he sat in the cafeteria of the HQ, sipping away at a small mug of hot tea. The plate in front of him had once held a few slices of well buttered toast, but it now only had crumbs on it. There were several others around him, mostly officers who had a few hours off, but they were all in groups with their friends. Bridge knew most of them, but typically was on their 'associate' list, not 'friends' list.

He had seen Sky walk in yesterday, bruised and with a black eye holding a case, which he had handed to Cruger, and then with a quick greeting, had left to see to Syd. After that, he hadn't seen Sky since.

He sighed again.

That's when he noticed several shifty looking people enter the place, who stuck together for a while, and then disappeared, moving off in different directions. His mind briefly considered the suspicious group, before quickly wandering off to other matters, such as trying to make sense of a motive for Gruumm buying out Apex, apart from helping the employees of said company. He tried to figure out what Gruumm had to gain apart from a very large stake in the galactic weapons market, or what he could do.

Apart from being the one with the largest development labs and being the biggest company in the business, there really was nothing to for Gruumm to gain apart from big profits, which wasn't exactly illegal, Bridge couldn't get anything, and merely sat down, sipping his tea. The drink itself was also getting cold. However, as the last of the now-lukewarm liquid went into his mouth and down his throat, there was shouting and then…the distinctive sound of laser fire.

Secret Agent Bridge snapped straight up, his hand touching the laser pistol he always kept with him, glancing around the cafeteria with a heightened awareness. Other cadets and technicians in the room also did the same, except that most of them weren't armed.

"What was that?" a person asked.

"Run!" another screamed, hearing the laser fire get closer.

They all ran out in a stampede that threatened to crush everyone in their way.

Bridge didn't run. He instead walked closer to the sounds of a firefight, drawing his pistol as he did. Poking his head out the door, a laser exploded on the wall centimetres away.

"Whoa!" he shouted, drawing back instantly.

This time a lot more cautiously, he looked out again, and no laser bolt met him this time. Instead, he saw a group of people running, holding the same case Sky had brought in.

"Hey!" he shouted, causing two of them to turn, laser rifles up. "Oh boy."

They let loose, and Bridge scrambled back to cover among lasers and explosions.

"This isn't fair!" he shouted at them from behind a corner. "Look at what I got! A pistol!"

They kept running, as Bridge followed them. He took a shot with his pistol, but the bolt missed. Cursing, Bridge ran faster, exchanging laser fire with the attackers or thieves. However, with both greater numbers and superior weapons, Bridge was the underdog as he ducked behind corners to avoid laser fire, and firing back. The whole running and gunning affair continued throughout the halls of the HQ, leaving behind a great deal of scorched walls that would keep the janitors busy until the week after.

Finally, after being pinned down behind corner by constant laser fire for a long time, the laser fire stopped, and he ran out, catching sight of the attackers fleeing. He chased them into the lobby, where they had disappeared, leaving several guards ducked behind furniture and potted plants for cover (he didn't know how well plants would fare against lasers) and even more laser scorched walls.

"Everyone here okay?" he asked, holstering his pistol. He checked behind the receptionist's desk. "You okay Lisa?"

"My hero!" she shouted, hurling her arms around his neck.

"Uh, thanks," he said, prying her off him. "Did you see where they went?"

She shook her head and sat down again, somewhat pouting. Bridge looked around the ruined lobby, seeing as the attackers were gone and no doubt very far away now. However, something caught his eye as he glanced around the room, apart from the guards starting to emerge from their hiding places.

"Hey, what's this?" he said to himself, kneeling down and picking up a handkerchief from the floor. It had a single, silver eye embroidered on it.

**

* * *

**

Time: 14**12 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Chimera Mobile HQ **_**Phoenix**_**, Jag-Agl System **

Kat once again stood in Beutat's office. It was one of the few places onboard the _Phoenix_ she secretly disliked to be in, and not just because of the sheer luxury of the place. Though she would never admit it aloud, she was uncomfortable around her commander and his attempts to woo her. She often deliberately dressed in clothing revealing enough to tease him, yet never enough to give him a proper glimpse, and she always flat out refused to respond to his flirtations. They were just some of her ways of getting back at him.

The said commander of Chimera sat in his chair, with a large mug of black coffee in his hands. He loved coffee. His mug even said so! Taking a large gulp of it, he swallowed and sighed contentedly.

"Sit down Kat," he offered, gesturing at the chairs in front of his desk.

"I'm quite fine, thank you sir," she replied.

"No need for that 'sir' stuff when we're alone Kat," he said. He raised his mug and took another long drag and groaned. "One day Kat, we're going to get real coffee around here, and none of this cheap, dried-freeze crap. Mark my words; we _will_ get real coffee around here."

Kat resisted the urge to tell him that he already _was_ drinking real coffee.

"You want a cup?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

"Suit yourself," Beutat shrugged, taking another gulp. Kat briefly wondered if he actually enjoyed the taste of it, or was addicted to the caffeine in the drink.

"All of these 'coffee' taste-alikes are the same frozen, replicated crap. What we need is _real_ coffee, made from _real_ beans. Now that my dearest, is _real_ coffee. Not this replicated stuff!" he said, waving the mug around so that its contents slushed around.

The buzzer on his desk buzzed, but he ignored it and continued to ramble on about coffee.

"I mean, half the bloody food in the galaxy is probably replicated! That technology has got to go Kat, I'll tell you that. It's screwing up all the coffee! What does it take these days to get real coffee from some real, honest farmed stuff? Why, I oughta get this to the galactic body! It's an outrage Kat! Who are they going to stuff over next? The tea drinkers? With replicated tea leaves or tea bags? Food I understand, but coffee? That is going too far!" he shouted, banging his fist on the table, spilling some coffee on a few sheets and breathing heavily.

"Someone wants to talk to you," Kat said, nodding in the direction of his buzzer.

"Yes, thank you Kat. I would never know where I'd be without you," he said, taking a drink from his mug as he placed the receiver against his ear with his free hand. "Yes?"

Kat too wondered where she would be without him around. _Probably feeling a lot better_, she thought.

Beutat listened as he raised his mug again and took a sip. What he heard next shocked him mid-sip. He spewed the coffee in his mouth out, spraying the desk, everything on the desk, and the chairs in front of said desk with the liquid.

Kat suddenly was glad she had declined to sit.

"What?" he asked in disbelief. "So they found it? And then lost it? Bwuhahahahaha!" he laughed. "Yes, thank you."

He banged down the receiver and turned to Kat, still chuckling, having not yet noticed the fact that many of the documents on his desk as well as the desk itself had been redecorated.

"Kat, come here," he said, still chuckling as Kat cautiously approached him. He opened a secret compartment on the wall, and pulled out a small, thin case. Unlatching it, the case slowly opened up, revealing a red and gold disc with a silver eagle on it. "Do you know what this is?"

Kat frowned as she stared at the disc. "It's a data disc."

"Ah, but not any old data disc!" he whispered quietly in secretive tones. "This is the most precious and valued data disc in the galaxy!"

"Why?" Kat asked.

"Ah, unfortunately my dear, I can't tell you much more than that," said Beutat with a sigh. "Maybe when we get a little closer," he added with a wink. Kat resisted the urge to throw up.

"Anyway, S.P.D. too has one of these. But, they found a third one, and then, only a few hours ago, had it stolen! Now it's out there, in the galaxy, just waiting to be found!"

"And you want me to find it?" Kat hazarded.

"My dear, you have taken the words right out of my mouth! Yes, yes, you go do that. I'll be waiting," he laughed as Kat left. Then he noticed the massive coffee stains on his desk, chairs and documents.

Kat walked out of the room, feeling nothing but relief as she finally escaped from the room and Beutat's horrible attempts at…she really didn't want to know what he was after.

She had a bit of time after collecting the symbol from Beutat's aide, so she walked through the major parts of the _Phoenix_, passing many Black Ops squads in training or coming from a briefing or debriefing. If there was one place that would both help her relax, and to get rid of the feeling of Beutat's office, it was the park.

* * *

The park within the _Phoenix_ was large and expansive, enough so someone could hide without being found for a good length of time. It was also Kat's favourite place to sit down and relax or think.

Sitting so that her legs were dangling over the edge of the small drop to the stream below, Kat tried to think about the insignia that she was given. No matter what she did, she couldn't match it with anything organisation she knew. And she knew a _lot_.

She was so deep in thought in fact that she didn't notice the person creeping up on her until it was too late. A quick shove from a pair of hands, and Kat fell over the side and into the water below with a shriek and a splash, to the 'attacker's laughter.

Kat surfaced eventually, her eyes closed and shaking her head to fling any water out of her soaked hair, gasping for air.

"Felix!" she gasped as she opened her eyes to see her friend and fellow Sphinxian doubling over in laughter. "Stop laughing!"

Kat swam to the edge of the stream as Felix followed her, still chuckling.

"Sorry Kat, couldn't resist," he called out to her.

To help cool (not literally) things off a little, Felix stepped down to the edge of the stream and offered his hand to Kat, who was starting to get out. She took his offered hand, and then yanked back, pulling him into the water as she fell back in once again with a splash.

He surfaced with a gasp alongside her laughing form. He didn't know how she could laugh and stay afloat at the same time, but Kat always surprised him.

"That's what you get," she laughed as he wiped water out of his eyes.

Her laughter turned into a shriek as he pushed her back down into the water again as he climbed out of the stream, soaking wet. Kat came up onto dry land eventually as well, her clothes soaked and dripping.

"Thanks a lot," she growled. "Look at me."

"It's an improvement," he said, chuckling. "You look so much…sexier when you're wet."

"I don't need to know that," she said, shaking her head. "And you're no better."

"At least I won't have every male down the corridor looking at me," he pointed out.

Kat growled as she tried to dry herself to no avail.

"Is there anything you want to talk about? Other than how I look? Or pushing me into streams?" she asked, wringing her hair.

"No, just wanted to see you."

"You wanted to see me wet? We've been through that already, and we both know how _that_ ended," Kat said.

"I know. I didn't want to push you over, but then again, I'm the only one here who can touch you without having to fear a broken arm. Hey cheer up. At least you're not wearing contrasting clothing," he said with a chuckle.

"Well, I'm going to go get changed," she sighed. "And then I need to go after that. Another assignment."

"Right, well, have fun," Felix said. "I'll talk to you later, and I'm probably needed at the Infirmary again."

"See ya," Kat said, leaving the park, shaking her head at the near pointlessness of their 'talk'. After she got changed, there were some people she needed to see. If anything, they would know what the mysterious insignia belonged to.


	4. Nomadic Eyes

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: Exams have finished! They were alright I suppose. Oh well. There's one tiny thing I want to ask you of: how many of you out there would have wanted a scene where Kat gets soaked in the show? ;) More characters are introduced in this chapter, and no, Kat is not trying to get it on with her boss. Considering how I described him I'm surprised that anyone would actually think that. And another thing. I dislike the Sky/Syd pairing with a _passion_. I think dislike is too weak of a word to describe my feelings on that matter, but the only reason I put that in there last chapter is because I can be evil to them now ;) Nah, kidding. I only put them together because, well, of differing circumstances in the story. But don't expect to see too much of them. After all, this is a Bridge story, and those who know me well enough should be able to guess the other main character. And we seem to finish a chapter with Kat a lot, don't we? Hmmm… now, onwards, and leave reviews instead of just alerting (that of course only applies to a few of you) to help me feel better after the exams! :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

* * *

**Time: 1345 hours, galactic standard time / Location: S.P.D. Central HQ**

"What happened here?" asked Bridge as a team of paramedics pulled away a handful of sheet covered bodies on stretchers.

The person he was talking to was a very badly shaken (not to mention shocked and traumatised), burnt and bloodied Red Ranger of Team Bravo-2. While it didn't sound quite as good as B-Squad, Bridge didn't know how many teams of Rangers were active. He supposed that the letters A to Z weren't enough, so they had to tack on a number as well. Failing that, he supposed, there was always the option of tacking on another letter to the already existing letter, as well as the already existing number. Failing _that_, there was the option of turning the letter into an actual word, as well as tacking on a number, which was what he assumed had been done. Then of course, turning the additional tacked on letters into actual words was an option. But, he supposed that calling out 'Papa-Mike-Sierra-4' was going to be a bit _too_ much of a mouthful during combat, not to mention very embarrassing if they had to say the first letters…what was he supposed to be doing now? Bridge wondered. Oh yes, the very shocked/traumatised/shaken Red Ranger of Team Bravo-2…

The Red Ranger looked at Bridge confusedly, as the secret agent had drifted off, his hand on his chin as he focused on the light above, his face scrunching up in deep thought. No doubt that the near legendary/infamous secret agent was probably thinking of ways to track the attackers right now…

"…sir?" the cadet asked tentatively.

"Wha?" Bridge said as he shook his head. Staring at the light for so long was a very bad idea. He had black spots in his vision now, and one had taken the place of the Red Ranger's head and face, which was very strange. "Yes? Wait, I remember I asked you something, but I can't remember what. Can you tell me what I asked you?"

"Uh, you asked what happened."

"Oh yes, I remember that. Don't you find it strange how we forget things that happened so recently, but always remember things really far back? I mean, shouldn't it be the other around? It would make more sense when you think about it, but then we wouldn't remember things that are far back. And that would be bad. Real bad. So if that's true, then about five years onward from now, I would remember this conversation. Isn't that a thought?" Bridge asked. He paused, and raised a hand to cup his chin in thought. "Wait, now we're getting off-topic. Funny how that happens, isn't it? Back on topic now, what happened?"

"We were moving the case for the Commander when we were attacked by a group of people with rifles. They knocked us down, and then took the case. We tried to follow, but they forced us back," said the Red Ranger. "We lost Parkinson and Downy following them."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Anything else?"

"Umm, no, sir."

"Alrighty then, that's all I want to know. Thanks a dozen, and the Commander probably wants to talk to you," Bridge added.

The cadet nodded and gulped as Bridge walked away. There were two people who would know the symbol, and he had to get to them.

**

* * *

**

Time:**1752 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Earth, Sol System. Newtech City, landing bay 41**

Earth. Bridge hadn't seen his home planet in a while, ever since he had last needed a titbit of information. After being raised on Earth, he had joined S.P.D., and left for the stars with many other eager people. His assignments had kept him away from his home, and S.P.D. called upon his services/skills a lot, cutting into his vacation time, making it easier for him to stay or have his vacations nearer to S.P.D. Central HQ. Not that he minded. After all, it was located strategically, and had an abundance of nice places to go to.

The blue green jewel of a planet looked very much the same as he landed his personal spacecraft, sleek and customised by the techs, at a port in Newtech City where a number of other ships and shuttles sat. He paid the fine, mumbling to himself about highway robbery as more shuttles flew by overhead. He then checked to make sure he had followed all landing rules properly; some cops were just itching to book anyone for just about anything these days.

Following his memory, Bridge followed the twists and turns of the roads, streets and alleys of Newtech City. The high rise buildings rose even higher as Bridge passed into the downtown area of Newtech, walking past stalls, shopping malls, corporate business HQ's and the whole lot as people walked past and cars roared along the road. Eventually passing through downtown and on the border of the downtown region and the suburban area, he turned into the shadow of one of the larger buildings. It was easy to miss the spot; after all, it _was_ tucked into a corner, under the shadow of one of the big corporation's HQ.

But that relatively small place was one of the most important sources of information for Bridge. The small but colourful sign was always lit, showing off the name: Alternative Information (For all your alternative information needs! Travel, gossip, or just the latest news!).

Walking in, Bridge heard the voice of one of the two people who worked here. There were only two people working here, but considering the business they ran, only two were ever needed.

"Well, did you know that Migren IV is in a civil war?" he heard her say. A pause as she listened to the other person on the line. "Alright then, we highly recommend a strong suit of armour if you are going then. And a large gun. They are mildly fashionable on the planet, as well as deterring some people: just don't expect gangsters to flee from you. The type? I wouldn't have a clue. Ask Jack."

Bridge waited, listening to her talk. She paused again as the person on the other end was undoubtedly talking.

"Oh, fine then. Jack!" she yelled.

"Yeah?" answered the male voice from a different room.

"What kind of gun should you bring to Migren IV right now?" she yelled back.

"The biggest one money can buy that is within legal limits! Or the biggest one he can afford!"

"Jacckk!"

"Fine oh fine. The smallest one that that packs the most firepower!"

"Jack! Be more bloody specific!"

"Alright, I'm coming, I'm coming!" he heard Jack shout before hearing him sigh.

A door to the left behind the counter banged open as a dark-skinned man of African-American descent with his hair in dreadlocks walked out. Sporting a shirt and jeans, he looked very casual for the owner of the place. Well, half owner at least. He looked over to see Bridge.

"Hey, look, it's Bridge!" Jack Landors exclaimed, walking over and hopping over the counter, completely forgetting about his previous task. "No time no see, buddy."

Bridge shook Jack's hand.

"Hey Jack. How have you been? Well I suppose? I think I can assume that because business seems to be running as usual, and there aren't any cops parked out in the front," Bridge said.

"You're real funny, did you know that Bridge? A true comedian, top of the line. One of the best I've ever talked to!"

"Jack!" Elizabeth 'Z' Delgado shouted angrily, poking her head out another door. "Get your lazy, fat ass in here and talk to the guy!"

She blinked when she saw Bridge.

"Hi Bridge!" she said, surprised and changing her tone.

"Heys," he answered with a small wave and a smile.

Z grinned at him, before dropping her grin and glaring daggers at Jack.

"You get your ass in there and talk to him!" she growled.

Jack grinned at Bridge before leaping over the counter and into the room, picking up the phone and speaking loudly into it.

"Sorry about that," Z apologised as she went across to him.

"It's okay. How's the business?" he asked, shaking Z's hand.

"It's good. Going really well," Z said. "Did you need something Bridge? Or did you come because you missed us?"

"Actually, I do need a little, tiny favour of you," he said, withdrawing the handkerchief that he had found and handing it over to Z. "Could you tell me what this is supposed to be? I haven't seen that symbol around, and trust me, I've seen a lot. Although I don't remember all of them…"

"Hmmmm," Z hmmed as she looked at the handkerchief.

While officially, Jack and Z ran an information centre, they also heard and knew a lot about things going on throughout the galaxy, through the talk of their customers. Sometimes they even knew things that weren't in the S.P.D. databases!

This had made them very good friends with Bridge, who came often to find out the latest titbit of information about whatever he wanted.

"I think this belongs to a small cult," Z said at last, frowning. "Where did you get it?"

"S.P.D. was attacked last night. I got it off one of the attackers," Bridge answered. "Well…more like one of the attacks dropped the handkerchief. I picked it up off the floor."

"Really?"

"Yup. Do you know the name or what it's supposed to mean?"

"Yeah, they're a group called the 'Nomadic Eyes'," Z answered.

"They don't mutilate their eyes, do they?" Bridge asked, horrified. He did _not_ want to go and fight people who had eye sockets without eyes. It scared him enough when he was younger in the movies, and it still did now, let alone seeing it in real life. He'd probably have to cover his own eyes if he was going to see that…and that would really handicap him in battle.

"No, it's just their name, silly," Z scoffed.

"Oh, well, phew, lucky me," Bridge said, pretending to wipe sweat off his brow. "Well, do you know where they are based?"

"You're in luck: I heard that a group of them and their leader is hanging around here somewhere. One of the less reputable pubs, I would imagine."

"Oh, well, thanks a lot Z. I appreciate it," Bridge said gratefully as Z handed back the handkerchief.

"No problem. Come back anytime," Z replied.

"Will do. See ya Jack!" Bridge called out.

Jack stuck his dark arm through the door, and waved as he continued to talk/argue with the person on the phone. At last, Jack hung up after Bridge had left.

"Well?" Z asked, folding her arms as she leaned back on the counter.

"Well what?" Jack innocently asked.

"Did you get it done?"

"Of course I did!"

"Then what did he say?" Z glared at Jack suspiciously.

The door opened again, and in walked a tall, dark haired woman with feline features, saving Jack from answering her question. She was another one of their information regulars.

"Hey, Kat!" Jack said, brushing off Z's question as he stood up and enveloped the taller woman in a hug as Z glared at his back. "Perfect timing!"

"Hey Jack," Kat laughed as she hugged him back. Z pushed off the counter and also hugged her. The tall feline did the same, and then released her.

"Long time no see," Jack observed.

"Yes, well, a few things had me very busy these last few months," Kat said, brushing a long strand of hair that had fallen out of place out of her eyes. "I know I said I'd visit earlier, but things didn't quite work out…"

"Yeah, we know, saving the galaxy and all," Z said. "What do you need?"

"I was wondering if you could help me identify this," Kat said, handing over a small slip of paper with the symbol on it. Z took it. "I can't ever remember seeing this around, even with all my years."

"You still look pretty damn good after all those years," Jack said, eyeing her up and down.

"Thanks Jack."

"Not a problem. Always willing to compliment and help a lady."

"Then how come you don't treat me as well?" Z asked, not looking up from the piece of paper as Jack spluttered and tried to come up with a reasonable excuse that would satisfy Z momentarily, until the next time he did something stupid.

Z frowned as she looked at the piece of paper. She already knew what it was, but if Kat didn't know that Bridge had been here before, all the better. "I think this belongs to a small group of people calling themselves the 'Nomadic Eyes'."

"Really? Haven't heard of them. They must be off-radar," Kat remarked as Z handed back the picture.

"Oh, they're bad. Very bad. In fact, they're so bad that they're bad to the bone. They're just extremely secretive," she said.

"Then how do you know about them?"

"Because some people just love to talk and talk and talk," she answered.

"Alright then, thanks. Do you know where I can find them?" Kat asked, pocketing the picture.

"I've heard that their leader and his lieutenants are actually here in this city right now," Z told her. "I just don't know where though. Try some of the less reputable pubs or clubs or bars. Don't waste time around downtown."

"Well, I'll find them soon enough," Kat said. "Thanks for the hints as well."

"Like I said, not a problem. Anything to help an old friend."

"And how's your commander?" Jack asked. "How is he doing?"

"Well, he still thinks that I'm already off on the other side of the galaxy tracking them already, instead of Earth talking to you guys."

"Hey, you are on the other side of the galaxy, and you are tracking them, with our help," Z pointed out.

"True," Kat laughed as they did so as well.

"And are we still off his radar?"

"Hey, you don't do anything bad, nothing's going to come down on you like a tonne of bricks," Kat answered.

"It all depends on what you consider bad," Z retorted.

"Don't worry, the both of you. You're still fine," Kat reassured them as she started towards the door.

"Hey, make sure that you do drop in before you leave the planet!" Z shouted as she opened the door, letting in a gust of wind and howling sound of the cars roaring pass.

"I will!" Kat shouted back, waving. The door shut, and Kat turned the corner and walked out of sight.

"Hmm, Bridge and Kat in the same day," Z mused as she went back behind the counter with Jack.

"Ten bucks say that they'll hook up," Jack grinned.

"No way Jack."

"Fine then, fifty!"

Z looked at him sceptically.

"You really want to bet that much?"

"Oh yeah."

"Fine then," Z said, shaking his hand and then slamming her fist against his. "Wonder if they even know they're doing exactly the same thing," Z wondered as they got back to work.

"Doubt it; they're on two different organisations or agencies or whatever you want to call them."

"Well then, if it stays like that, then I've already got the bet in the bag. They're great friends still, aren't they?" Z said aloud, reading through the newspaper.

"Yup, especially Kat. Wonder if she'll hook up with me instead?"

Z punched his arm, hard.

"Ow!"

**

* * *

**

Time: 1941 hours, standard Earth time / Location: Villainy Lane, Newtech City, Earth

Bridge strolled through the alley in one of Newtech's less-than-reputable area, more specifically, its underbelly. All around him here were people who had a bad history, of nearly every kind imaginable. There were black market vendors here, selling illegal or stolen weaponry and equipment. He even saw some military grade weapons in the vendors' shelves. He was suddenly glad that he had removed his S.P.D. badge, which was in his pocket: here, that would have been a massive sign for everyone, and they would most likely just went for him. His hand went to his hidden and holstered laser pistol, touching the handle before forcing his hand away. Being nervous wasn't going to help. Guts right now was what he needed, and he was going to need a truckload of it if he was insane enough to do what he was going to do (which he was, funnily enough).

He briefly panicked; what was he doing here?! S.P.D wasn't welcomed here! Well, they _were_ welcomed…with guns and bombs (maybe that was going a bit too far again). But, being a secret agent with a job to do, Bridge steeled himself in every way possible and every way he knew. The next few hours might be his last. But if he was lucky (which he hoped he was; he couldn't afford good luck charms, not on his pay), he would live to see tomorrow, and if he lived to see tomorrow, then he would see the week after, and the month after that, and the year after that…maybe. After all, he was the best of the best that S.P.D. had to offer, and he _was_ expected to come out of this unscratched and with a witty one-liner: he was thinking them up now, even as he walked down towards one of the bars.

The flashy neon sign in front of the bar was a tad old and rusty. The lights flickered on and off, never staying off…or on. The walls too had seen better days, graffiti constantly being drawn onto them, scrubbed off, redrawn and then rescrubbed over and over again. And then the cycle repeated itself again the following day, as it had been ever since the bar had opened.

There were windows, but they had metal bars welded in place over them, which was handy for stopping people from breaking in but not handy for throwing people out of them, which Bridge supposed was a shame. If _he_ had been a person getting into a fight inside that place, then throwing people out of windows (scumbags of course, people who actually _deserved_ to be thrown out of windows) would be quite fun and handy. But he wasn't going in to bash people around, oh no, he was only here for answers.

"Hey," whispered a suspicious looking man with a large trench coat. "You there."

Bridge stopped, and turned to the man in the corner. "Are you selling things? Like going around to people's doors and then selling them? 'Cos I don't have any need for shaving and/or razor blades," Bridge said, feeling his chin as he said so.

"Nah!"

"Oh good then. So…what did you want?"

"Are you going to see Nomad's Eyes?" asked the coated figure, still glancing around calmly.

"Who's that?"

"No one. Are you looking for the Nomadic Eyes?"

"Umm…maybe?" Bridge offered.

"If you are, be careful. They're in that club, but they don't take well to strangers." With that, the cloaked man slinked around in the shadows before disappearing.

Bridge stared after him, confused. What was that about?

He shrugged to himself, and then set his shoulders and jaw, and straightened up. There were so many things one could do to make themselves appear intimidating, or important, at least. Bridge now had to do his best to do so, or he would be beaten down upon by the occupants in the bar the second he set foot inside.

Already hearing the scuffles going on inside, Bridge walked in, past the brown doors and into the lights, music, mist and fights going on inside. The disco ball inside threw colours all over the room, green, blue, red, white, yellow, orange, nearly every colour Bridge could name and even some he couldn't. The tables were all full, as a fight happened in a corner, with more people joining in every second. He made it a point to avoid that particular part of the bar.

Bridge briefly consulted the idea of asking the bartender for assistance, before realising that he didn't know the group's leader's name. Discarding that idea, Bridge settled for snooping around until he either caught wind of someone speaking about it, or found their symbol if they even were here at all. Bridge started to wander around the area, doing his utmost best to appear intimidating, before bumping into a much taller, much more heavily built man. The person looked down on Bridge with a growl, but he had already quickly escaped…right next to him, on his head.

The man saw Bridge's legs, and lifted him up to his face, grinning madly all the while.

"Hi," Bridge said with a smile, before delivering a punch to the man's face.

He howled and dropped Bridge, who fell to the floor and quickly scrambled away, blending in with the huge crowd of people around. The man whipped around, but couldn't find Bridge. With a dissatisfied growl, he turned away and started to walk. Bridge saw that on the back of his red-crimson jacket, he had a symbol: a silver eye.

He was part of the group Bride wanted to find.

Quickly and quietly (not that it mattered: it was nearly impossible to hear anything over the sound of the music and people shouting, screaming and all sorts of other stuff), Bridge tailed the man, quickly spinning around, burying his face in a cup, in a newspaper or a magazine whenever the man turned around.

Peeling the magazine off his face, Bridge threw it on the nearest vacant table. Glancing back over to it, he saw that it was an adult magazine.

"Oh, very nice," he muttered as his face grew red.

He sneaked after the man, to the looks of confusion on the other patrons' faces whenever he crouched down and followed him lowly. Eventually, after numerous stops at the bar, other people, the toilets (he had a hard time explaining that to a number of people), the man finally stopped at another group of people, all sitting around a single table, as Bridge hid nearby.

"I'm telling ya man, that was way too easy!" laughed someone, hidden from Bridge's view by everyone else. "One team in, no losses and one _very_ valuable piece of treasure in our hands!"

That was enough for Bridge. He got up, out of his hiding place and approached the table, one hand on his pistol, the other grasping his badge.

They all looked up at his approach.

"S.P.D., you're under arrest. All of you," Bridge said, whipping his pistol out and his badge and showing both of them at the same time. It had taken him _years_ of practice to get that motion right.

They instantly got up, and rushed at Bridge. One of them tripped over their stool in the confined quarters, and fell back on his face, tripping up yet another two of them who also fell into a pile. The others fared better.

Bridge punched one in the face, who fell back into the others, as another one managed to grab and yank the pistol out of his hands. He slipped the badge back into his pocket, and fell back to avoid a pair of fists from either side. The two attackers ended up punching each other, and as the recoiled, Bridge sprang up, and knocked their heads together. They fell down; unconscious as yet another person grabbed him from behind.

They lifted Bridge up, conveniently letting him land a kick on another person's face, before slamming both feet together…with another person's head in between. The person's eyes rolled up into their head, and they dropped like a rock. Bridge then twisted out of their grips on his arms, and dropped to the floor, sweeping the people around him off their feet.

As all this was happening, their leader, a single eyed, purple scaled alien with a large snout slipped away and ran out from the increasingly growing fight. He could hear police sirens in the distance, and was aware what consequences awaited him should he not escape, and fast, as well as what would happen if he didn't report to his employer.

In the next few minutes, even more bodies hit the floor as Bridge single-handedly kung-fu'ed his way through what seemed like unending crowds of Nomadic Eyes followers. He punched one, jumped up to avoid a sweep kick and kicked back as he landed, flipped off one person to land behind them and then slam his knee against their back, and finally kicked another one down, as two more descended upon him. They occupied his time and attention as the one he had knocked down earlier scrambled on the floor, among all the other knocked out and unconscious bodies.

Bridge landed a punch as they ran towards him, and quickly dropped to the floor to avoid a pair of kicks that went over. He grabbed a fallen stool and held it up, just as someone stomped down. The stool broke (he would have to talk to the person in charge about quality of the furniture), and the person's foot was stuck through.

He grinned as he pushed up with force, sending the person flying back, his arms flailing around wildly as he fell onto the bench with a _crack_, his leg still stuck through the stool. The other also tried to stomp him, and without any improvised shields around, Bridge resorted to rolling around as the foot crashed down all around him, nearly squishing his head. He sprang up when the opportunity arose, and landed a kick that sent the other person flipping over and over (in apparent slow motion), before finally crashing to the floor.

Bridge surveyed the floor around him, which had every square centimetre packed with bodies, splinters of wood and a few bits and pieces of broken furniture. All the other people in the club had fled at the sight of a single person single-handedly wiping the floor with the henchmen despite being outnumbered at least fifteen to one.

"Well, that takes care of that," he said, dusting off his hands.

"Not quite, Secret Agent Carson," said the last man in a French accent as he got up, Bridge's pistol in his hand. "I hold the upper hand here."

Bridge saw that he was holding the pistol with both hands.

"You don't have any hands to hold onto anything," he pointed out, as the pistol whirred up. "And how did you know I was a secret agent?"

"Ah yes, zhat famous wit. Too bad I won't be able to hear much more of it soon. As for your other questzion, let's just zay a little birdie told me. Goodbye, Monsieur Carson," said the man.

There was a shot, and Bridge's hand flew to his chest as he closed his eyes. But there was no pain, and he opened a small sliver of one eye, squinting around the room before opening them both fully.

The man stood, still holding his pistol. However, soon, he slumped down, smoke rising from the small of his back. Someone else had found them, and fired the first shot. Otherwise, there was something wrong with the pistol. _Maybe the pistol had backfired_, Bridge thought.

"Convenient of them to design the pistol to fire backwards," Bridge said, as he picked up the pistol.

He looked up at the sounds of the sirens, before seeing a single tall person with a different laser pistol holster it. He saw cat-like ears, as the person stepped into the light for a brief second, enough for him to determine that his guardian angel was a female, who then turned around and started to walk away. He briefly considered going after her, but then the S.P.D. Cruisers pulled in, as more officers and cadets came up.

"Sir!" one shouted, walking up to Bridge. Then he saw the devastation behind Bridge. "Uh…"

"Carry on cadet," Bridge calmly said, holstering the pistol, clapping the cadet over the shoulder and walking off, leaving him and the others who were approaching to deal with the cleaning up and one angry bar owner.


	5. Chase

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: Ah, the sweet smell of growing up. Happy birthday to me...in a couple of days at least. Sorry for the really clichéd French accent thingy last chapter. If you were offended, I apologise ;). Now that most of the main characters have been introduced, let's get stuck into things. But first up, I think we need a theme song for Secret Agent Bridge. After all, if James Bond has one, and Secret Agent Clank has one, why not Bridge as well? Well, my two choices are of course the James Bond theme, or the Secret Agent Clank theme. If you want to hear it, unfortunately, it has to be downloaded (but it's legal and free at least). See ya all next week! When I'm another year older! Woo!

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

* * *

**Time: 2051 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Unknown, 26 light years from Earth**

The ironically one eyed leader of the Nomadic Eyes sat in the cockpit of his small ship, chewing his claws nervously. Just when he had thought things were going swell, S.P.D. had shown up, and threw a massively oversized wrench into things. Not a wrench in fact, but a sledgehammer. But like everything that had been smashed to a million tiny pieces, there was something he could hopefully recover out of it. If not…then _he_ would be the one who would be in pieces.

The galaxy was a big place, but he did pass the occasional freight ship, hauling cargos of precious goods and items across the galaxy, like a giant tanker (the pilots too could be called intergalactic truckies), and the occasional private yacht, which were always expensive, held plenty of luxuries, and typically only the big corporations had such vessels. Everyone else either had to save up for a huge length of time, which of course they were typically too impatient to wait out. Who needed an ultra-expensive yacht anyway (apart from bragging rights, but that was different)? Some people could and most would settle for a nice customised shuttle (the equivalent of a sports hover car. Wheels were old school).

As he flew past freighters, yachts and other vessels which made his look like a run down, second hand hunk of junk, he kept thinking, and touching the thin black case in his pants pocket very nervously. Tapping a claw on it in time to the music which he had just put on, he soon found trying to fly with one hand was the equivalent of trying to fly while eating with one hand. He had tried that before of course: how else would he have known what it was like? Not to mention it was one on a very long list of felonies on his record, despite him being the leader of a secretive cult. He was like a walking contradiction…

_He would __vaporise me if I don't talk to him_, he thought to himself, and reached for the communications panel, taking his hand out of his pocket. Before he touched the button, his hand fell away. _He would vaporise me if I talk to him and tell him S.P.D.'s on my tail. _

But again, he reached for the panel_. I have to tell him. He would want to know my progress. But if it's not enough, he would vaporise me. But if I tell him that I have the disc, and the S.P.D. agent off my tail, then maybe he _won't_ vaporise me._

With his mind finally made up, he reached and touched the button, before activating the speed call to his employer. The call started to connect, as the Nomadic Eyes screensaver popped up on the screen, spinning around lazily in a mesmerising motion. He would have to think about getting a new screensaver (after all, he found ads nearly every day detailing free screensavers). While thinking of a new and free screensaver, he didn't notice that his vessel had slipped into the path of another freighter. He looked up from his daydream of flashy, fancy and beautiful free screensavers to see the incoming bulk of the massive freighter!

A quick swerve to the left, and his vessel barely got out of the way of the freighter, at the cost of springing nearly all the airbrakes and snapping the customised tail fin off (that was the only remotely technologically advanced part on the hunk of junk he was flying). The screensaver turned off, much to his relief and showed the face of the pilot of the freighter, who wasted no time screaming obscenities at him in languages he knew and languages he _didn't_ know.

Before the pilot could finish his rant, his call finally connected, and showed the face of his employer, who didn't sound happy.

"Well?" grunted his employer. "I told you not to disturb me until after I have the disc in my hands!"

"Fo-for-forgive me, b-b-b-but I have the disc right here!" he stammered, taking both hands off the flight stick, and snatching the disc out of his pocket.

The movement jostled the flight stick, and sent his vessel swerving out of control and into the flight route of another vessel. The opposite pilot swore loudly, and swung his vessel around, managing to avoid a head on collision. Instead, he clipped out one of the three rear view cameras, turning one of the camera view screens to fuzzy static, which happened to be an improvement in fact. Luckily, the call was still on, and the other pilot couldn't connect to him, and swear at him.

Finally getting the case out, and showing it to his employer whilst gripping onto the flight stick for dear life, he finally managed to regain control over the renegade ship.

"So you have it. Why haven't you delivered it yet to the drop off point?"

"Because I was going to, but S.P.D. found me!"

"And…?"

"Wiped out all my best men with one agent!" he cried out.

"One agent? One agent defeated all your best men? I find that hard to believe," said his employer dubiously.

"It was Secret Agent Carson!"

There was a shocked silence on the other end.

"Get to the point as fast as you can!" ordered his employer. "I will have some of my best guards there to secure the package, and your reward, when you arrive."

"Gotcha. All of the reward?"

"All of it, plus bonus if you can get it there within the next few days," said his employer, before his screen winked off as the connection was cut.

He had a plan. If S.P.D. was on his tail, then he'd have to clear out his goods that he had amassed at his HQ first. After that, he could easily pick up the reward his employer had so graciously awarded him, and then set up something else far, far away.

As the screen winked off, a short message showed up, from the pilot who had clipped his vessel. It popped up, in both large font and red writing, which obviously emphasised the hatred the other pilot had for him as he read it: 'Great job, ya dickhead!'

* * *

**Time: 0912 hours, galactic standard time, following day / Location: S.P.D. Central HQ, Commander Cruger's office.**

Cruger groaned as he felt another headache building up. It was only nine in the morning, he just had his morning coffee, and already one was building up. That was never a good sign of the day ahead.

"You alright Commander?" asked Bridge, as he stood in Cruger's office.

"Kill me now," he groaned quietly.

"Sir?"

"Nothing Bridge," he hastily said as the office door opened, and in walked Sky.

"Sir!" he shouted, snapping up straight and saluting. "I apologise for my inconvenience!"

"No matter Sky," Cruger muttered as he rummaged around his top drawer, looking for the bottle of aspirin he kept there. He secretly prayed that it was still at least half-full, but instead, he couldn't find it. "At ease, both of you," he said as he ducked his head down to look inside it, starting to search a little more frantically now.

Bridge and Sly shared a confused glance before shrugging their shoulders simultaneously as their Commander frantically sifted through weeks worth of reports, magazines, material, personnel and transfer requests, letters from his wife, confiscated items, letters from the Supreme Commander (which resided at the bottom of the massive drawer), all to no avail. Without any hope in the near future of relief from the upcoming headache, Cruger sighed despondently and sat back up properly in his chair. It let out a squeak as he leaned back into it, straining to hold his weight.

"Did you want something Bridge?" finally asked Cruger, leaning forward on his desk instead, rubbing at his rather large forehead.

"Yeah," Bridge said, scratching his head in thought as Sky moved around until he was standing behind Cruger again. "I think I found a lead on the attackers who attacked us."

Cruger and Sky snapped up, and paid closer attention.

"Who?"

"The people who gave the information, or the actual attackers?" asked Bridge.

"The attackers. I don't really care about who provided it, as long as you can trust them," said Cruger. Sky almost looked ready to object, but didn't.

"According to them, the attackers were a group called the Nomadic Eyes," Bridge answered, recalling his conversation with Jack and Z.

Sky frowned. "The 'Nomadic Eyes'?" he asked. "We haven't heard of them before, have we?"

"No, we haven't," Cruger answered. "Continue, Bridge."

"Well, apparently they are a small sect or group that stays off the radar, but since we haven't heard of them, they pretty much attacked us for nearly no reason," Bridge said.

"Do you know anything else?" asked Sky.

"Nope. Not even the people I talked to knew. However, I did find them."

"Where?" Cruger asked sharply.

"On Earth," Bridge answered.

"Don't we have a Base there?" Sky asked.

"Yes we do. What happened after Bridge?"

"Well, I got a hint that all of them, well, maybe not _all_ of them, but like all the important people, like their lieutenants, their best men or fighters I think, and those kind of people, were gathering at one of the clubs in Newtech City's underbelly," Bride recalled. "I went in, and tailed this other guy across the whole club before finding them, and then I got into this really, really, _really_ big fight with them all."

As he said this, Bridge stretched out his arms to demonstrate the size of the battle.

"Go on."

"Well, we ended up ruining half the place, but their leader escaped," Bridge said. "That's when some other person shot the last guy, and then some other S.P.D. cadets came."

"That means that we should be getting a report from them soon," Sky said, frowning.

Right on que, there was a tap on the door.

"Come in," Cruger called out.

His assistant walked in, and handed a report to Cruger. "Just arrived from Earth sir," he said.

"Ah, thank you."

His assistant nodded, and left them to continue. Cruger skimmed through the report, looking at Bridge dubiously when he came to the section where a Ranger had documented that Bridge had single-handedly defeated an overwhelming tidal wave of Nomadic Eyes followers.

"Well, that seems to confirm things," Cruger said, handing the report to Sky, who flipped through it. "Do whatever you can to recover that disc, Bridge. Dismissed."

"Sure thing," Bridge said, saluting before leaving the room.

"Twenty four attackers, all but one rendered unconscious without suffering more than a few bruises?" Sky read out in shock and disbelief.

Cruger sat back and nodded. "Hard to believe, I know. But, he _is_ our best agent, no matter what he is like."

"Of course sir."

* * *

"Bridge!" Sky called out.

His long time friend turned and waited for Sky to catch up before resuming his walk.

"Hey, what're you doing?" he asked.

"Syd's invited me to lunch," Sky revealed.

"Ooh, sounds fun," Bridge said. "Good luck then, Sky."

"Not that. She wants you to come as well."

"Huh?" Bridge stopped in his tracks. "Um, did I hear you properly? Syd wants me to come as well?"

"Who else? And why can't she?"

"I uh, kinda thought that it was a private affair between you and Syd," Bridge sheepishly said.

"Don't forget that you're her friend as well," Sky reminded him. "Now, you want to come? 'Cos we're just about to leave."

"Leave?"

"We're taking the next shuttle to Akaih VII, to have lunch there. Better than the cafeteria here," Sky told him.

"How long is your lunch break?"

"It's only a few minutes flight, actually. It's really close, because the HQ is moving towards it, to refuel and restock."

"Oh, might as well then," Bridge said.

"Great!"

* * *

**Time: 1214 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Akaeih, capital of Akaih VII**

Akaih VII was yet another one of those planets that resembled Earth in many ways. The sun shone brightly down on the main street on the planet's capital, as Sky, Syd and Bridge sat down at one of the many cafés scattered around, along with many other S.P.D. personnel who were taking the opportunity to get out of the space-borne station that they served on.

Generally peaceful, the world did house an S.P.D. base, but compared to the others on much more war-torn planets, it was relatively small. The population, a mixture of alien species and even some humans walked around, greeting others. The relative peacefulness made it a great place for Bridge and others to spend their downtime, as it was also close enough to the general operating area of S.P.D. Central HQ to be called back quickly.

The friendly atmosphere suited all of them fine, as they sat outside, drinking their favourites. They had finished their meal, the plates stacked neatly on top of each other. Sky and Bridge listened to Syd's stories about the Infirmary and her job, laughing at some of the more hilarious stories, including a drunk freighter pilots, a pair of pilots who had been stuck in the cockpit with an angry tropical bird, and one pilot who had tried to pull off stunts…whilst flying a freighter loaded up with pressurised and liquefied gas, oxygen and fuel. Needless to say, the pilot's license had been revoked _very_ shortly afterwards.

Their lunch was interrupted when a large, burly man wearing a black leather jacket came up to them.

"Are ya Bridge Carson?" he asked, as silence dominated their table.

"Yeah, that's me. Who wants to know?" Bridge replied.

"My employer wants ya ta know that ya should stay outta his way, if ya know what's good for ya."

"…are you threatening me?" Bridge asked. "'Cos it sounds an awful lot like it."

"No, I'm just passing on a message."

"That has a threat in it," Bridge countered.

"I'm not threatenin' nobody!"

"Threatening a member of S.P.D. can lead to charges," Sky said dangerously, starting to stand up.

"Hey, hey, I'm the one who is being threatened here!" protested the thug. "I'm not a part of this: I was just told ta give a message to Bridge Carson, which I'm doing now."

"A message with a threat," Sky amended, reaching for his badge.

"Sky," Syd said, still sitting, grabbing onto his arm.

He looked at her, before conceding and sitting back down.

"So, you are here to give me a message. With a threat," Bridge said. "Well, I'm right here, and I think my ears are working, so shoot."

"About time too. Anyways," drawled the thug, tugging on his jacket's sleeve. "Ma boss wants ta tell ya that you're meddling in stuff that ya shouldn't be in the first place. He said that if ya know what's good for ya, you'd stop before ya get in way over ya head."

Bridge, Sky and Syd paused, trying to sort through the 'messenger's rough English.

"Ah, well, umm, thanks…a lot," Bridge said, scratching his head.

"Not a problem. I'll be leavin' now."

They watched as the man left them, proceeding down the street until he was gone, mixed up in the crowds of humans and non-humans.

"…did you get what he was going on about?" Bridge asked Sky and Syd in confusion.

They slowly shook their heads.

* * *

**Time: 1224 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Chimera Mobile HQ _Phoenix_**

There were times that Kat hated having a mobile fortress as a HQ. She understood the benefits of it, sure. They were secretive, and did their best to avoid the public eye. That was when having a mobile fortress as a HQ was most ideal out of the options, apart from S.P.D.'s relatively un-mobile Central HQ. And of course, she didn't have to take a shuttle as far to her destination: more often than not, the _Phoenix_ would get as close as possible to her target, without arousing too much suspicion.

But those benefits really only affected her mission objectives. Having it as a mobile HQ really threw everything else into disarray. When coming back from the small, rare, short and brief vacations she rarely had, it was a real pain in the rear end to find again. And not too mention going to those places meant that she sometimes had to go further than usual, than she would have if the _Phoenix_ had remained in one place.

The other was of course that a mobile ship fortress had limited power sources, as with any other station or ship, and as a mobile ship, had to divert power to whatever was necessary. Naturally, the engines gobbled up huge amounts of power, and then Beutat's room also took up large amounts of power. Normally, it wouldn't have been a problem…had the reactor not been under repairs. That led to a drop in power levels, since the repair tools also took power to operate, and a great deal of the reactor was shut down to allow access. That led to power shortages, which led to cutting of non-vital systems, which led to Kat's current position. Having come back from Earth to report to Beutat, she was staying on the ship temporarily, as it headed for its destination.

"Bloody convenient timing," Kat muttered to herself. "Just _had_ to start repairs when I'm _on_ the bloody ship…"

Her current position was that of a very cold room, as the lack of power caused the heating systems to be shut down, but keeping life support on. Now she was finding out for herself how cold a vessel could get without heating. Her only comfort was that the lights were at least still on, and she had a cup of steaming jasmine tea, which Jack and Z had given to her before she left.

Her door chime sounded, but with herself wrapped in a blanket (a thick one, as well as her thickest jacket), sitting on her bed and a hot cup of tea to stay warm, she was very reluctant to get off the bed.

"Come in," she called out, hoping that it wasn't someone she disliked. To her relief, Felix walked in. "Hi."

"Hey Kat," he said, closing door behind him. "What are you up to?"

"Cursing the fact that being a female Sphinxian results in no fur," Kat replied, taking a drink.

"Too bad, isn't it? It wouldn't have helped that much in any case; I'm still cold." He walked closer, and sat down at her desk. "What's that?" he asked, motioning at the cup she held in her hands.

"Tea."

Felix gave her a look. "You're not addicted to it, like our commander, are you? Maybe he's rubbed off you more than you or I can imagine."

"He's a coffee addict, and do _not_ talk about me and him and any sort of physical contact," Kat retorted, shuddering. Whether it was from the cold, or the thought of her and him rubbing she had no idea.

"So if you're not a coffee addict, are you a tea addict?"

"_No_. A friend gave me a container of dried tea leaves, and helpful instructions on how to do it, despite me already knowing, and I'm drinking it to stay warm in this blasted cold. You want a cup?"

"It would be appreciated, yes."

"It's right next to you," Kat said, pointing at the flask, as well as a few extra cups next to it.

He poured himself some, and gingerly sniffed the steaming liquid. "Smells nice."

"Then drink it. If you're not going to, I'll drink it," Kat said. "It's hot, and I'd hate to see it go to waste."

"Yes ma'am," he said, with a smirk tugging at his lips.

"And don't call me ma'am; you're making me sound old," she glared at him.

"Why not? You're still young and beautiful, as well as technically being higher ranked, so I have to call you ma'am. I know you hate it, but I know won't do anything to me," he grinned. "So I'm safe."

"Not for long, if you keep this up," Kat threatened.

"Yes…ma'am."

Kat glared at him. "…I hate you."

"I know."

Some unspecified time later, the power was restored fully, granting access to the heating systems, at last. Still, the room was bitterly cold, but starting to warm up, for which Kat was thankful for. They were running out of tea.

Felix still sat at her desk, sometimes glancing through what she had there, which wasn't much.

"Do you ever wonder why we're on such good terms?" he asked suddenly, looking at her.

"What?" Kat looked at him, confused.

"Why are we still really friendly and on good terms with each other?" he repeated.

"Maybe it's because we're friends?" Kat said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy.

"Not that. I have plenty of friends who have broken up, and they all are bitter to each other…their partners, I mean."

Kat shrugged. "We both agreed to it. It was for the best. Seriously, I couldn't continue as an agent, and you couldn't advance to where you are now if we had continued that."

"So that was part of it. The people I know, they're really mad at each other. Can't speak to each other without some swearing attached. Why aren't we swearing at each other?"

"I swear at you!" Kat protested.

"No you don't…well, you do," Felix said. "But only when you're in the Infirmary, when we're fixing you up," he added as Kat opened her mouth.

She closed it with an 'humph'.

"So we agreed to stay as good friends," Felix said. "How did that work after all these years?"

Kat shrugged again. "Maybe it's because you're just about the only friend I have here."

* * *

**Time: 1523 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Akeih, capital of Akaih VII**

Bridge ran after the group, his pistol out of its holster.

They shouted something, and then two of them whirled around, aiming a range of guns at him.

"Oh, toast!" Bridge muttered, hurling himself behind a large metal bin as they fired.

Rapid laser fire exploded all around him, as some of them turned and continued running, and others stayed back, still firing. The few civilians still around ran away screaming.

Bridge peeked around the corner, and squeezed a few shots off from his pistol. The lasers struck around the attackers, forcing them to stop firing and take cover, before returning fire at him again.

"How do I get into these kinds of situations?" Bridge mumbled to himself.

Not long after lunch, and receiving the message, Sky and Syd had left. Bridge stayed behind, telling them that he would catch up later. The station was on the other side of the planet, making communications with it next to impossible. He had found the group of Nomadic Eyes soon after they had left, and confronted them.

Now here he was, pinned down behind a bin, with lasers scorching the area around him. He took a shot at one of the attackers, but missed. In return, more laser fire forced him back.

They shouted something again, and then stopped shooting, running away instead, following the rest of their group. Bridge popped out, and fired. This time, he hit someone, but didn't see what, as they forced him back with another storm of lasers. He hauled himself up onto the roof of the comparatively low building, using the bin as a step. On the roof, he could see them running, and took another few shots.

He missed, and they twisted around, firing at him with pistols and automatic lasers as he leapt off the roof. An explosion blossomed behind him as the lasers hit something volatile, and he landed in a roll, and was back on his feet within seconds.

Running and shooting at the same time at moving targets was a very difficult task, as Bridge soon found out. His shots went wide, up high over them or low to the ground, and in nearly every direction he could imagine except the direction of the group of Nomadic Eyes. The same was true for them as well, with most of their shots flying wildly off-target. Bridge ran through exploding lasers, which threw bits of dirt into his face, ducked underneath a flying bin (now that would be a very useful contraption), and other various bits and pieces as he chased them.

Taking a shortcut, Bridge soon found himself running directly adjacent to them…on the rooftops. He leapt off the roof, and landed in front of them, much to their surprise.

"Just dropping by," Bridge remarked, as he swung around with a kick that nailed one in the head.

Taking down a few more, the rest ran around him in an effort to reach their destination, leaving their fellow members behind. Bridge swept another off their feet, and knocked two more unconscious. He pulled one up to him.

"Where are you friends going?" he asked to the dazed person.

"Space port…" he mumbled, still seeing stars.

"Thank you for your cooperation. Aren't things so much easier when you listen to me?" Bridge commented, snapping one end of the handcuff to their wrist, and closing the other on a pipe running down the building. "Someone will be here to get you shortly. Bye!"

He took off in hot pursuit of the other Nomadic Eyes. Catching up was a problem, as they had gained a significant lead over him in the time it took for him to handcuff a person to the wall. Still, he sprinted and sprinted, leapt over obstacles like a professional hurdler and thundered down sidewalks as he did his best to catch up. And he did.

Eventually, he was close enough to shout, "S.P.D.! Halt!"

That of course, generated a response: they fired at him. With lasers exploding all around once more, Bridge ran through, and raised his pistol, squeezing off more shots through the haze of sparks and debris. His own shots did little as well, other than to throw off their already bad aim, which was slightly helpful. After all, less accurate shots headed his way was always good. No shots were better, but in his line of work, shots were always expected.

With the space port, a large, circular building that held space vessels in underground hangars and had landing and take off bays, as well as all the necessary equipment required to repair damaged vessels, looming up ahead, Bridge's prospects of catching the grew increasingly slimmer. He ran faster, bolting past confused security guards who did little to stop either him or the Nomadic Eyes he was chasing. He followed them through the twists and turns of the massive building, passing other people in the place, and making sure to holster his weapon. The last thing he needed was to be arrested right now, and letting the Nomadic Eyes escape. Then he'd _really_ get an ass-kicking from Cruger.

Short of breath, aching legs which felt like they were on fire were the results of chasing the group. Eventually, it led him to a large outdoor landing pad, where a small shuttle was already waiting and warming up. He could already see the heat waves sizzling from the engines as they started to glow. The group he had been chasing stopped outside the fence as it closed, sealing him off. They stood outside, laughing at him.

"Step out!" Bridge ordered, pulling his pistol out and pointing it at them.

"Or what Secret Agent Carson? You'll shoot us? Oh, I'm so scared!" mocked one of the Nomadic Eyes at the front. "Go ahead, shoot!"

Bridge hesitated, and then fired. The bolt struck the fence, but sizzled out, leaving behind no marks.

They laughed mockingly again.

"Sorry Secret Agent Carson, we've got a shuttle to catch!" they shouted over the roar of the engines starting up.

"How come everybody knows my name?!" Bridge screamed.

"A little birdie told us!" they shouted back, and started to move towards the shuttle.

They were metres away as Bridge started to pound on the fence to no avail. They all turned, and waved mockingly at Bridge.

"So long, Carson!" they shouted. They turned, and then the shuttle exploded.

An average sized fireball ripped through the shuttle, ravaging everything inside it and destroying it. The fuel went off in an explosion that sent pieces of the shuttle high into the air, which then started to rain back down. The force of the explosion knocked the Nomadic Eyes followers on their faces, and sent Bridge flying back.

They stared, dumbfounded and gaping at the remains of their escape shuttle, as a few bits and pieces exploded in small explosions as Bridge slowly got back onto his feet. The next moment, a shadow blocked the sun overhead as three black military dropships with a roaring lion's head with a pair of eagle wings behind it on their sides flew overhead, and hovered, dropping glowing lines, upon which black-clad, armoured and helmeted soldiers fast-roped down, their weapons slung over their shoulders.

They landed, and instantly aimed their weapons at the group of Nomadic Eyes on the ground.

Shouts of "Freeze!" and "Hands up!" as well as "Reach for the sky!" filled the air, as Chimera's Black Ops squads took the group into arrest. The group quickly succumbed to the Black Ops soldiers, given how heavily armed and armoured they were, not too mention how intimidating men, women, aliens or whatever were when they wore all black clothing and armour, helmeted and toting guns. The Nomadic Eyes were shoved together by multiple Black Ops soldiers, as others secured the area, shouting all kinds of military jargon, some of which Bridge understood, and others which he didn't. One of the black dropships descended from the sky, and a side hatch popped open, as the Black Ops shoved the Nomadic Eyes inside.

"Well, that takes care of that, I suppose," Bridge said as he got up, dusting off his hands. He turned around, to see three Black Ops soldiers standing behind him, their laser rifles aimed at his head and chest.

"…or not."


	6. The Pen is Mightier

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: (Sobs) Do you know hwo hard it is to continue writing without motivation? (Sobs even more uncontrollably) I'll be fine (sniffle), just a little more reviews this time, k? Anyways, I'm fine now xD (guys don't cry their hearts out :)). If you haven't worked it out already, you should know by now that the main characters are Bridge and Kat. Everyone else is just supporting characters except for the villain, who I won't tell you yet but you may have worked it out already. And by the way, there is more than one villain in this story. And on a side note, I nicknamed this chapter 'The Chapter with the word high-tech in it too many times'. You'll see why later. The length of these new chapters is increasing by quite a bit, aren't they? Thanks to BB for beta-ing! Read and review, and I'll see ya next time!

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

* * *

**Time: 1830 hours, galactic standard time / Location: S.P.D. Central HQ, Commander Cruger's office**

Sky and Syd both stood inside Cruger's office. Sky was standing in front of his desk, rather than behind it like he usually was. Syd stood at his side, and he did his utmost to keep what he considered a 'professional' distance. Unfortunately, Syd's idea of a professional distance was quite different to his own perception of a professional distance. Only the fact that Cruger was in the same room (and she was absolutely _terrified_ of him) caused her to maintain a reasonable (to an extent) distance away.

"What's going on?" Cruger barked. He was _not_ happy, having not found his headache relief in the form of aspirin (it was his personal belief whoever discovered it should be given a sainthood and whoever had taken his bottle condemned to eternal damnation, AKA toilet duty. And that really was condemnation) for the better part of the day, and then going through meeting after infuriating and very headache inducing meeting. As of now, he still hadn't found it, and was considering declaring a state of emergency. After all, if he didn't find it, there was going to be hell to pay. Namely him losing his sanity.

"Bridge hasn't come back sir," Sky said, standing straight as Syd looked worried.

"We had lunch with him, but after, he stayed on the planet for a while. We haven't heard from him since," Syd chimed in.

"Has he contacted or has anyone else seen him?" asked Cruger.

"No sir. We asked around, but no one, not even the people in the shuttle bay have seen him," Sky replied.

Cruger frowned as he listened to Sky. That frown only deepened, if it was possible, when his assistant walked in.

"There's a report from the Akeih Space Port sir," he said, handing a blue-lit pad to Cruger.

"Thank you." His assistant walked out with a nod.

Cruger skimmed through the report as Sky and Syd whispered to each other. Or more accurately, Syd whispered to Sky, who listened to her. His frowned deepened even more as he put the report down, and Sky and Syd snapped up to attention.

"Bridge's been captured," Cruger gravely said.

"What? How?" Sky and Syd asked in shock at the same time.

"The space port authorities have said that one of our agents was pursuing a group of people, sometimes shooting at each other. Apparently after, Chimera came in, and took the people in, as well as Bridge," Cruger explained, cupping his large 'chin' with a large blue paw.

"Chimera?"

Cruger nodded. "Assemble a team Sky. We're going after Bridge."

* * *

**Time: 2135 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Chimera Mobile HQ _Phoenix_, Beutat's office**

"Have they revealed anything?" asked Beutat, his voice positively dripping with delight.

In front of him stood three people: Kat Manx, who once again wished to be anywhere except where she was right now, Colonel Ailoa, the highest ranked Black Ops, and Felix, the chief medical officer on the _Phoenix_. They had been standing only for a few minutes, as they reported what the group of Nomadic Eyes had told them…under lots of pressure.

"The group they work for, their names, their leader, and where he is most likely at," Colonel Aiola said.

"Well, that tells us a _lot_. It's _really_ helpful," Kat sarcastically remarked.

"Well then, you do something for once," shot back Colonel Aiola, narrowing his alien eyes.

"Oh let's see, what about having destroyed their shuttle and prevented their escape? Oh wait, if it wasn't for that, you wouldn't _have_ anyone to interrogate!" Kat said.

"You know, I've just about had it with you, Manx!" snarled Colonel Aiola, stepping forward. He quickly realised it wasn't a good move, since Kat stood taller than him by about half a head.

"Had it with my what?" Kat softly asked in a dangerous voice. Her eyes briefly glanced to the knife that was strapped to his leg.

"Come on Kat," Felix said, stepping behind her and touching her shoulder. "Leave it at there for now."

Kat glanced back at Felix, who had a pleading look in his eyes. He silently pleaded with her. Taking a deep breath, she nodded and backed off as an uncomfortable silence filled the room until Beutat spoke up and broke it.

"…Well, since we're all fine and dandy now, what's next?" asked Beutat, having watched the exchange with obvious interest.

Just then, another Black Ops smashed through the door, tripping on his feet and falling on his face. Colonel Aiola stepped forward, while Kat and Felix watched with hidden amusement.

"S.P.D…fleet…" gasped the Black Ops, standing up and then falling back down again, gasping for air.

"Steady now," Felix said, crossing over to where the Black Ops sat and Colonel Aiola was standing over him. "Take a few deep breaths; stabilise your breathing and heart rate."

The Black Ops nodded, and finally got up without falling back down. Kat tried her best to avoid meeting Beutat's eyes as this happened.

"An S.P.D. fleet's found us sir," he reported. "Two frigates and a destroyer. They're holding their position away from us."

"What?!"

"And that's not all of it. They've revealed something. The Nomadic Eyes," the Black Ops excitedly said. "The location of their leader!"

"What? Where?" demanded Beutat.

"He's supposedly stopping at their headquarters on Opothium Prime," revealed the Black Ops soldier as everyone in the room processed the new revelation and sprung into action. Or more precisely, Beutat sprung into action, and the others followed his orders.

"Alright then, Colonel Aiola, assemble a combat team of your best men and be prepared to deploy. Felix, go check up on our new S.P.D. 'friend', and Kat, well, you do whatever you need to do to get ready. I'm sending you with the Black Ops team," he said with a grin, turning to solve the problem with S.P.D.

They all nodded, some more reluctantly than others, and then proceeded to leave the room. No sooner were they beyond the doors leading to his office did Aiola turn on Kat.

"This isn't over, Manx, not by a long shot," he warned. "I don't know how the hell you got away with pinning one of my men against a table, but someday, something will happen, and it's not going to be pretty for you."

"Maybe if you had trained him properly, and not letting him provoke me every bloody time I walk past him, maybe it wouldn't have happened!" Kat shot back.

"Why you…!" he raised his fist and threw a punch at her, but Kat caught it as Felix looked on, helpless.

"Don't play games with me Colonel," Kat said, as he struggled to get his arm free. "I'd hate to have to do the same thing to you as I did to Chavez."

She released his arm, and walked away, him staring a hole into her back and Felix hurrying after her, knowing he now would have a heck of a time trying to calm Kat down before going to the S.P.D. person kept captive.

* * *

**Time: 2140 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Unknown**

Bridge stared at the glowing, high-tech wall of his high-tech cell gloomily. He had searched, but never found a weak point in the cell, and had soon resigned himself to give up. He unfortunately didn't have any of his high-tech gadgets with him, and they hadn't taken much from him either. He could have tried to blast the walls with his pistol, but his pistol just _had_ to be the only thing they decided to take off him. Why not his badge? Of all things, why did it _have_ to be the pistol?!

The high-tech door with the glowing edges slid open with what Bridge decided was a high-tech sliding sound. After all, high tech stuff _had_ to have high-tech sounds, otherwise, it was only two thirds high-tech. After all, he only classified things as high-tech when they actually were high-tech, as well as and including looking high-tech and of course, having high-tech sounds. Lacking any one of those simply made it un-high-tech-ish despite it being high-tech.

A person with a humanoid body and a face resembling a tiger walked in, dressed in a white coat and holding a clipboard in his gloved paws. Bridge stared at him. After all, it wasn't everyday you saw a Sphinxian, considering that most of them were actually dead.

"Are you a Sphinxian?" Bridge asked as soon as the high-tech door had closed once again with its high-tech closing (and opening) sound. (It should be noted that both were the same, but whether it was actually opening or closing depended on the perception of the person causing the said door to open or close.)

"Yes, I am. My name is Felix, and I just need to look over you. What's your name?" Felix asked.

"Bridge Carson, S.P.D."

"Of course, _the_ Bridge Carson. You're quite well known here, did you know that? Not in a good sense, in any case. Most people here dislike the thought of someone in another, especially a rival agency, being better than them."

"Really?" Bridge asked in surprise. "Are you one of them?"

Felix chuckled as he read through the clipboard. "No, I really don't mind that. I'm just a doctor, after all. Now, we just need to get you checked through…"

Twenty minutes later, it was all done.

"Well, you're good to go," Felix said. "I think our commander's negotiating with your friends to get you released, so get ready."

"Alright, thanks."

"Don't mention it. And by the way, you are looking for Nomadic Eyes, right?"

"…yeah…so?"

"Their leader is supposed to be at their headquarters on Opothium Prime. Just to let you know," Felix said as he left the room/cell.

* * *

"Gentlemen, what can I do for you?" Beutat asked, sitting back on his chair. The screen in front of him was divided into three, with a separate face on each one.

"If you would be so kind, we would like to have Agent Carson back in our hands again," said Captain Steele on the middle screen.

Beutat looked sceptical. "What makes you think we have him here in our possession?"

"A good report detailing exactly what happened at the Akeih Space Port."

"And you believe a report from civilian authorities?"

The aging human, Captain Valentin, on the left spoke up: "All S.P.D. badges contain a tracking device. We happen to be getting a very strong signal from within your ship."

"Well, hopefully we can sort out this mess like proper gentlemen, without all the mess of boarding each other," Beutat said.

"Indeed. One of our shuttles will pick up Agent Carson, in the designated landing bay."

"We'll choose the transfer area, thank you."

Captain Steele narrowed his eyes. "So you can have an ambush prepared?"

"If you provide the shuttle, we'll be providing the landing area. If you want to choose the landing area, we'll transfer him with our shuttle," Beutat reasoned.

Captain Steele sighed. "Very well."

* * *

Bridge stood in the very tense atmosphere in an airlocked room in of one of the _Phoenix_'s many landing bays. Behind him stood a trio of armoured, helmeted and armed Black Ops, their weapons held at their side in a strict ceremonial fashion. Felix also stood somewhere to his side, as the bay they were facing slowly depressurised. The S.P.D. shuttle flew in, and landed with a handbook-style landing.

The massive (high-tech as well) blast door behind it that led to open space slowly closed, without the sound of grinding gears. Bridge deduced that everything around the place was either high-tech or very well maintained. Maybe even both.

The landing bay started to pressurise again, and the light at the top of the door winked from red to green, indicating a safe environment on the other side.

"Let's go," one of the Black Ops said, opening the door and lightly shoving Bridge through it.

A ramp at the rear of the shuttle hissed open, and down walked three Rangers, a red, blue and a green, all equipped with S.W.A.T. gear and Enforcers. They stepped up to their less lively coloured counterparts.

"Here," one of the Black Ops said. "Unharmed, and we're not doing anything."

"Thank you. Come on sir, this way," the Red Ranger said as the Black Ops started to walk away.

As Bridge glanced back at the retreating Black Ops, and back in the room where Felix still stood, he thought he saw someone with similar features to him, mainly the cat-like ears perched at the top of his head stand next to the doctor. He waved, as Felix nodded in response.

"Sir, the shuttle's waiting," the Red Ranger said from the ramp.

Bridge turned away. "I'm coming, I'm coming, hold your horses," he sighed.

* * *

**Time: 2215 hours galactic standard time / Location: S.P.D. Destroyer _Alexis_**

"Sir!" Bridge saluted the captain as he walked onto the bridge of the S.P.D. destroyer _Alexis_.

"Carson, nice to meet you," the captain said, extending his hand, which Bridge shook. "Hope they didn't rough you up too much."

"It wasn't five star service, but it was okay," Bridge answered.

The captain chuckled. "I see your infamous humour doesn't let down."

"If I may, I need to speak to Commander Cruger," Bridge asked, once the captain had stopped chuckling.

"Yes, of course. Lt. Hanks, connection to Central HQ, on the double. Lt. Morris, alert the _Hopeful_ and the _Boundless_ to form up, and then full speed back to Central HQ," ordered Captain Steele.

"Connection with Commander Cruger on sir!" reported Lt. Hanks, looking up from his station.

The large screen on Bridge's left fuzzed on, and showed Cruger's face.

"What is it?" he barked.

"Commander, I've found a new lead on the Nomadic Eyes," Bridge said, pulling the headphones and microphone bundle over his head. "I'm transmitting the coordinates to you now."

Cruger paused, as the information scrolled across his own personal computer many hundreds of lightyears away.

"Good work Carson," Cruger said. "Get here as fast as you can. I'm assigning you to the operation."

Bridge nodded and saluted as the screen winked off.

"When do we reach HQ?" Bridge asked.

"Our ETA is approximately only two hours at the rate we're going. They didn't move you far, and that giant of a ship moves too slowly until it warms up," answered Captain Steele.

"Well, that's good. Do you have a spare room? I need to get some rest," Bridge said, taking a yawn.

"Cadet Jere will lead you to the guest quarters," said Captain Steele as one of the Rangers who had been guarding the entrance to the bridge came up.

"Right this way sir," the Ranger said.

Bridge nodded thanks as he left. The trio of vessels continued to speed along, bypassing many other, far smaller freighters and other ships.

* * *

**Time: 0100 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Chimera Mobile HQ Phoenix, locker rooms**

Kat closed the door to her equipment locker with a _bang_.

All around her were the sounds of lockers being closed, various bits and pieces of armour being put on and the whine of laser rifles and pistols charging up, and the general chatter of a squad of nine Black Ops preparing for a battle and one other person, who was hidden behind the door of his/her locker.

The locker room, of which there were twenty scattered around the ship, also doubled as an armoury, with firing ranges, lockers for storing mission gear (not personal gear; those were kept separate), and of course, rack after rack after enormous, grey rack with high-tech bright blue lights of weapons, grenades, explosives, missiles and just about every weapon imaginable. Kat thought that the cost of maintaining all the weapons as well was also nearly unimaginable.

Another _bang_ sounded, and the person who masterminded the sound stepped out. A towel was draped around her shoulders, which her hair flowed past. Dressed in a purple/violet bodysuit that defied and breached just about every dress code imaginable, she was only saved because of her status as an agent, and therefore, had considerable leeway. Walking out, Chimera's _second_ best agent glared at Kat's back and made sure to give Kat a hard shove as she passed.

The shove merely caught Kat off-balance, and she recovered fast enough to turn around to catch a glimpse at her attacker.

"Oh, it's you, the _second_ rate agent," Kat said, no small amount of venom in her voice.

Morgana, the second best agent of Chimera, glared back at Kat. "Not for long," she snapped back. "Just you wait Manx: you'll be put in your place eventually, and you'll be begging me for mercy then."

"I'm flattered," Kat said mockingly. "Maybe you would like to join Colonel Aiola in the 'You'll-Regret It-Someday-Manx Club', ever since he told me the same thing a few hours ago. Funnily enough, I think you're already joining him in another club: the 'I-Just-Got-My-Ass-Kicked-By-Manx' club."

Quite literally seething with anger (an obvious sentiment that was made even more obvious through the sheer redness in her cheeks), Morgana struggled to come up with a witty retort, failed, and instead stormed out of the room, leaving an amused Kat. She sighed as she fondly remembered beating Morgana in just about every training course that agents had to regularly go through in time, accuracy and kills as well as overall sexiness (sexiness wasn't actually required to be an agent and wasn't one of an agent's must-have-skills even though it _did_ help), and then turned back to her equipment.

She never felt as isolated as she did when among the other soldiers and even among her fellow agents in the locker rooms. Agents such as herself rarely operated alongside Black Ops (Black Ops were almost always deployed to help agents in case they needed support, not agents to assist Black Ops). As such, there was often a rivalry of sorts between the two groups. While the Black Ops soldiers had barracks assigned to different squads, the agents had their own rooms to themselves, both for security reasons and to minimise the chances of a mission being jeopardised. This caused an even greater rift between the two groups, as well as agents being trained differently and using different tactics, but this was a special case. After all, this _was_ a high-risk mission, and there was no way, not in a million years, that Beutat would allow this mission to fail. Which was why she had been assigned to it as well.

"Gather round, gather round!" shouted the Black Ops squad leader. The other eight Black Ops moved to sit in a rough circle around him, while Kat sat close to ten metres away from them. "Alright, listen up Echo Team. We're headed for the HQ of a small sect called the Nomadic Eyes. Our objective is to capture their leader. _Alive_," he stressed.

Kat glanced over at the group, and instantly turned away when she saw that Jones Chavez was among the squad. Of all people, _why_ did it have to be him?! She knew she wouldn't be able to survive the journey in the dropship with him around.

"You heard that Manx?" shouted their squad leader. All of them turned to her.

"Hard not to," Kat replied, charging up her laser pistol, and clipping three flashbangs and two smoke grenades to her belt. That was all she needed. If she needed anything beyond a pistol and five grenades, then that was a sign that the mission was going off-track.

The squad leader snorted. "Agents and their arrogance," he mumbled, before raising his voice. "Alright, here's the plan. We're going through the lobby, and blasting anyone who fires at us. Then, with the plans of the building which we have acquired, we'll move through the building, and…"

_Meanwhil__e..._

"Alright, here's the plan," said the Red Ranger, as the four Rangers under his command, as well as Bridge, listened. He didn't have to of course; he was higher ranked. But he had very little experience in leading squads, so he let the lead Ranger brief his squad.

"We're going in quietly, through the backdoor. No lethal force if you can avoid it. That's why you have flashbangs. Use 'em. Only shoot when you're being shot at, got it? I don't want any controversy with the media about shooting civilians. Once we're in, with the plans that we have been provided, we'll work our way through the maintenance corridors, and from there, we'll find and capture..."

* * *

**Time: 0451 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Chimera '_Firebird'_ Class-6 Military dropship, 300000 kilometres from Opothium Prime**

The ride down to the planet was surprisingly uneventful in every term or usage of the word. For the most of the Black Ops in the dropship, 'uneventful' meant that they weren't being blasted apart by enemy anti-aircraft fire or being shaken around by the shuttle being vaporised in the planet's atmosphere.

For Kat, 'uneventful' meant that she didn't have to pin Jones to the wall of the dropship with his own combat knives, and that she didn't have to deal with his vomit-inducing attempts at seducing her. Luckily, she sat away from all the other Black Ops, her seat against the wall separating the cockpit from the passenger bay. While she did it to separate herself from the Black Ops, she also sat there so that she could keep an eye on Jones. So far, things had been pretty uneventful...

However, her vision of a ride down free of any sickening flirts was shattered into a thousand million pieces when Jones leaned forward.

"Hey Kat," he said, leaning forward on his restraint. "You know, if we do start to get shot at, you'd better sit yourself down over here. It's a hundred and ten percent death-proof."

Kat suddenly wished for the flight to start to be shot at. Not so she could sit on his lap (she'd rather die than even crossing the deck over to him), but so she could 'accidentally' pull the trigger on her pistol, and 'accidentally' shoot him. _It's easy_, she told herself. _Aim, pull the trigger, and all your troubles will be over..._

Forcing that thought back down, she instead went for the rebuttal approach. "First thing: I'll be safer sitting on a dropship loaded with high explosives on a crash course to Onyx than sitting on your lap," she retorted. "Second thing: nobody, _especially_ not you, calls me Kat." (That was a lie; Felix could call her Kat, but apart from him, nobody else).

This caused a round of sniggers, as the other Black Ops nudged him, undoubtedly grinning underneath their faceplates on their helmets. Kat caught a few of the whispers as she leaned back. From her seat, she could view everyone in the bay through glimmering green eyes.

"_She likes you man,"_ and _"Good going,"_ were among a few of the things that she managed to catch from their whispering. Kat hoped that there were automated defences around the area that would hopefully kill off this entire team. She didn't have anything against them (that was a lie), but she found them very annoying (that was a partial truth).

"We're ten minutes out," the pilot said over the intercom. "Strap yourselves in, if you haven't already. It's going to get bumpy."

Within minutes of his announcement, the dropship did start to shake and rattle.

"Damnit," the pilot mumbled, as out of nowhere, lasers started to fly up from the surface. A bolt just narrowly missed them, instead scorching the armour and flaked the paint as they descended. "This is Firebird 1, we're under fire, repeat, Firebird 1 is taking fire!"

"Roger that Firebird 1. You're too far in for us to assist. We'll try to vector in two gunships to your position, but they're going to be late," said one of the many officers in the Phoenix's command centre.

"Copy that. Wish us luck."

"Good luck Firebird 1. Deliver the package safely."

The pilot started to reply, and then was forced to jerk the dropship to the left sharply, as smoky, black clouds of shrapnel started to fill the sky.

"Flak fire," said his co-pilot, tapping a few buttons.

"I know! Don't state the obvious: it's distracting me," the pilot said, hunching over the flight stick.

"Whatever."

As they descended with a sharp angle into the planet, another dropship out of nowhere streaked out from under them, doing a barrel roll to avoid a series of lasers. It then sped ahead, flying dangerously close to flak explosions and leaving a clear white vapour trail. The new ship had the markings 'S.P.D.' on it.

"Damn, now S.P.D.'s here," the co-pilot mumbled again.

"Shut up! I can't fly this thing with you stating the obvious!" the pilot cried out.

_

* * *

_

Onboard the S.P.D. dropship...

Bridge's teeth chattered together nervously as he stood with five other Rangers in the passenger bay of the dropship. His equipment was all strapped to him very tightly, as were the Rangers' Enforcers and other gear. On his and their backs was a small backpack, one that would save his life. He couldn't help but think how something so small could possibly save him from a very, very messy way to go.

"Tell me, why are we doing it this way again?" Bridge asked the Red Ranger.

"It's supposedly the safest way. If they can't track a dropship, how can they track falling people?" He responded.

"Great. So instead of getting ripped to pieces by AA fire, we get killed by splattering on the ground. Fantastic," Bridge groaned.

The ramp that sealed the bay slowly opened up, revealing the breath-taking and vertigo inducing scenery underneath, as well as letting in a very cold wind that lashed all around them. A tall, mostly abandoned and very run down city skyscraper served as the Nomadic Eyes' HQ, ringed by laser batteries and flak guns. Bridge had no idea where they had gotten that kind of equipment: such heavy weaponry was extremely expensive.

"Okay boys and girls, we're reaching the drop zone in ten seconds. Good luck, and radio in when you've got him," their pilot said, as the flight path of the dropship straightened out.

"Is this a good time to mention that I'm afraid of heights!!" Bridge shouted as they ran off the ramp and into the sky.

"Geronimoooooooooo!!" screamed the Green Ranger as they fell through the sky at what was galactically accepted suicidal speeds.

The occasional laser bolt flew past, but as the Red Ranger had predicted, most of it missed, and tired of missing, they soon switched to targeting the Chimera dropship which they weren't hitting either in any case.

"What's Chimera doing here?" shouted the Yellow Ranger as they fell.

"Probably after the same target!" responded the Pink Ranger.

"Activate chutes!" ordered the Red Ranger, as all six of them, including Bridge, pulled on the cords, and parachutes deployed.

They guided themselves down, before activating the jetpacks they had on their backs, slowing them further and allowing them to more accurately guide themselves onto the roof.

The moment they landed, a hatch opened, and Nomadic Eyes followers poured out, raising weapons. They shouted all sorts of talk, as the S.P.D. Rangers and Bridge took cover behind several air-conditioning units.

"Throw down your weapons!" shouted the Rangers, as the Nomadic Eyes pointed their guns at them.

"Surrender or die!" they screamed back, ending all hopes of trying to sort out the trouble diplomatically.

But, as usual, Rangers were always persistent.

"Drop your weapons!"

"Surrender!"

"Drop 'em!"

"You first!"

"You surrender!"

"You die!!" they screamed, and then started to shoot, bright flashes of lasers throwing sparks high into the sky.

"Screw this! Fire back!" shouted the Red Ranger.

There was a flash, and then five Delta Enforcers, followed by a singular laser pistol, discharged their energy at the group, who quickly scrambled away from the lasers. It wasn't long before they started to fire back, trading laser for laser. A consequence of trading laser fire back and forth was always dead bodies, and soon, the first bodies fell. Two Nomadic Eyes were killed when lasers struck them, as another misjudged the distance from the edge of the roof, and ended up diving off the edge and into the light darkness below.

But the S.P.D. team suffered as well. Their Green Ranger fell to the floor, unmoving when a multiple lucky laser bolts penetrated his armour. Bridge tossed a grenade over to their side, and heard the _whump_ of a satisfying explosion that tossed air-conditioning units over the edge.

"We surrender!" the surviving Nomadic Eyes attackers screamed, this time in fear instead of defiance.

"About damned bloody blasted time as well!" shouted the Blue Ranger, lowering his smoking Delta Enforcer as the Yellow and Pink Rangers ran to the fallen Green Ranger.

Bridge just raised the pistol to his mouth, and blew the smoke drifting off the barrel away. "Come on, we'd better handcuff them to a pipe or something. We don't have time. Place him in a Containment Card. We have to, or else he'd have died in vain," Bridge said to the mourning Rangers.

To emphasise his point, the black Chimera dropship roared over their heads, and started to descend, as the laser batteries desperately tried to pick it off to no avail. Without a second word, after handcuffing the surrendered attackers and zapping their fallen team-mate into a Containment Card, they charged down the stairwell into the building below.

"Was this part of the plan?" Bridge asked as they ran full sprint down the stairs. "I distinctly remember something about running around in maintenance halls."

The Red Ranger puffed and panted as the heavy gear they wore bore down on them and generally made the mad rush down stars just that bit more difficult. "This...is...not...part...of...the plan!" he panted. "But...things...never...go...as planned!"

"S.P.D. scum!" they heard the shout below them, and the sound of a laser rifle firing. The bolt struck the railing above them, and rained bright sparks down.

The Pink Ranger peeked over the side, and nearly had her head taken off by a laser bolt. She yelped as she fell backwards onto the stairs and tumbled down to the landing a few steps down.

"I hate stairs," she grumbled as she got up. Bridge poked his pistol over the railing, and fired a few shots down below.

There was screaming and yelling as the attackers scrambled to get away from Bridge's poorly placed shots. They were poorly placed, but nevertheless effective as they ran, clearing the way for them.

"Come on!" Bridge shouted, and then stumbled, nearly falling down the stairs. "Whoa, whoa, WHOA!" he shouted, his arms flailing as he tried to regain his balance.

Only the quick reflexes of the Red Ranger grabbing onto the back of his vest stopped his fall down the stairs, as he was pulled back.

"Thank you," he gasped, sitting down.

"No problem sir. Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine. My dignity isn't quite as well," he answered, standing back up. "But no matter. Come on, let's get going."

They charged down the stairs, passing many other people who instantly cowered at the sight of four Rangers and an agent rushing past them, all holding weapons. Their boots rang on the old, crumbling stairs (Bridge hoped that it would hold), as they bypassed doors, headed for the twentieth level, where the leader of Nomad's Eyes was hiding out.

Halfway down the stairs, a pair of Nomadic Eyes followers popped out of a door, and fired at the surprised S.P.D. squad. Bridge dove out of the way (and down the stairs as well) as the Red Ranger dropped to the floor, followed by the Yellow Ranger, as the Pink and Blue Ranger were hit multiple times. The Red and Yellow Rangers fired back, as the bodies flopped to the floor.

"You stay there! Secure the area!" Bridge ordered. "I'll find the leader alone. In fact, get to the bottom: see if you can put the AA guns out of commission when the next dropship arrives."

"Y—yes sir," they said, still trying to help their team-mates.

Bridge ploughed through ahead, alone.

* * *

The black dropship deposited its cargo on the ground, and then lifted off.

"Go go go!" shouted the Black Ops leader, as they, followed by Kat, charged into the building.

The lobby where they ran into then turned into a hellish landscape of lasers, as Nomadic Eyes followers/militia instantly fired the moment they ran in.

"Ambush!" shouted one of the Black Ops, before getting blown back through the window behind them by the force of the grenade exploding. Another was shot a dozen times, his body flying back from the force of the hits, and another was downed in the same fashion.

"I got a kill!"

"Man down!"

Lasers ripped apart the once-neat lobby, shredding pot plants, throwing up tiles, bits of ceramic and plenty of smoke as the survivors of the initial ambush (six Black Ops and Kat) took cover behind whatever was left. They tossed grenades at the dug-in militia forces, who screamed obscenities that best be left alone at the Black Ops.

Kat poked her head around, and squeezed off a few shots with her pistol, before ducking back behind the fountain. She cursed as a grenade landed only a few centimetres away, well within killing range. She reached out, grabbed it and threw the grenade back, which exploded in midair to add even more confusion and clouds of dust to an already confusing and dusty battle. This wasn't her kind of fight. She wasn't suited to sitting back and taking shots at the enemy. She was better up close, where her fighting skills were almost unmatched.

"Cover me!" Kat shouted, tossing one of her smoke grenades over. It _popped_, and billowed out a cloud of harmless white smoke.

"What?"

But Kat was already on her feet; leaping away from the fountain she had been hiding behind. She ran, rolling every now and then to throw off their aim as they aimed for her.

"Is she nuts?" asked one Black Ops.

"Who cares; they're exposed! Take 'em out!"

Kat ran, weaving behind and in between pillars and whatever else was fairly intact, tossing the occasional flashbang at the militia forces. By the time they had recovered, she was already within their midst. Her foot was already flying at the closest Nomadic Eyes, kicking him back into his buddy and bowling them over. She leapt at the next Nomadic Eyes, who ran at her, and knocked him down. Rolling, she avoided the next barrage of lasers, and flipped to her feet, and then striking another across the chest.

By the time the Black Ops had added their firepower, the battle was over.

"Alright," the Black Ops squad leader said. "You, you and you," he pointed at three different sitting Black Ops, "go with Manx and find the leader! The rest of us will secure the area."

Kat nodded, and was already off by the time the three assigned to help her had got to their feet.

* * *

The door exploded inwards with a flash of puffy smoke and in strolled Bridge. He glanced around, seeing that he was in a large, very luxurious office with plenty of desks and chairs scattered around. A large safe was open on the far side of the room, where a single eyed, purpled scaled alien wearing what looked the outer suit (albeit much, much slimmer) of a space suit without the helmet was hastily stuffing things into a bag, before closing it.

"You're under arrest," he announced cheerfully to the stunned Nomadic Eyes leader, who dropped his bag stuffed full of everything of value.

"What for, officer?" he asked in a strained voice.

"Agent," Bridge corrected. "And, well, I'll bet you've got a list so big that it'll take me to the next century to finish. And what's your name?"

"Grrrrr," growled the leader. "It's Nomad's Eyes. You'll remember it: it'll be the last thing you ever hear!"

And with that, he launched himself at Bridge, his claws out. Bridge sprang to one side, narrowly avoiding the attack as Nomad's Eyes stumbled. He whipped around with a kick that struck the mastermind of the S.P.D. Central HQ attack on the back, and sent him sprawling face first onto the ground.

Nomad's Eyes groaned as he got up, before lashing around with his arm outstretched, which nailed Bridge on his chest. He was propelled into a desk, knocking it over and spilling everything on it off.

"Ouch," Bridge mumbled as he got up to see Nomad's Eyes standing there, his clawed hands on his hips.

"Bwuahahahahaha," he laughed. "Is that all you've got?"

"Not really," Bridge responded, kicking a chair which had fallen next to him at Nomad's Eyes.

The chair struck the slow-to-react leader, whose single eye bugged out in pain as the chair slammed into his stomach and more...sensitive regions. He gripped his stomach and collapsed to the floor.

"Oooh..." he groaned. "That hurt!"

He slowly and painfully got up as Bridge also assumed a fighting stance. "That's just the beginning!" Bridge said.

He ran at the leader, and right before reaching him, fell to the floor and slid towards his legs, aiming to slide tackle the leader. This time, Nomad's Eyes reacted fast enough, and leapt up as Bridge slid under him.

"Too slow, Carson!" he yelled, stomping over to Bridge. He punched Bridge, and managed to catch his counter-attack. "What's the matter? No witty retorts? No getting up to keep on fighting? I thought S.P.D.'s best agent would be better than this!"

"You haven't seen anything yet!" Bridge grunted, raising his foot and planting a kick on Nomad's Eyes chest.

The force sent Nomad's Eyes falling backwards. He still held onto Bridge's hand though, and pulled the agent towards him as he fell into a desk. Letting go the instant his back smashed into the beautifully carved, ornate desk which unfortunately was shattered under his substantial weight, Bridge went flying above him, before landing in a roll behind the broken desk.

Bridge ran at the recovering leader, letting out a yell as he leapt up, and landed one kick, a second which was finally followed by a third to the leader's chest and head. The kick sent the leader tumbling end over end and flipping over wildly as he flew through the air. There was a loud _crash_ as he crashed into another desk, which promptly broke apart into two pieces, one of which fell over, the other falling onto his chest, adding injury to the...injury.

"Ha!" laughed Bridge. "You were saying?"

Nomad's Eyes slowly got up, throwing the other part of the desk away angrily.

"I said it'll be the last thing you hear. Now I will make sure that the last thing you'll see is me stomping you to oblivion!" he shouted.

Running at Bridge, his tail lashed out, and struck a surprised Bridge full across the chest, sending the unfortunate agent flying back across the floor. Bridge's pistol clattered out of his holster, and went skidding across to the side of the room that was opposite to Bridge.

"That was dirty!" he cried out.

"The clean person in society never wins!" declared Nomad's Eyes as he stomped over to where Bridge was getting up.

His tail lashed out, and hit Bridge again, sending him sprawling further across the floor and stopping with his back against an upright desk. Reaching up, Bridge found that there still was a small bundle of pens there, and grabbed them as Nomad's Eyes came closer.

"Take this!" he shouted, removing the lids or clicking the pens to expose their pointed and well-inked tips, and hurled them like ninja stars at Nomad's Eyes.

The pens flew through the air like miniaturised spears, and like spears, stuck into various places on Nomad's Eye's suit. He yelped as one actually went through and jabbed him. Furiously ripping out the pens that were stuck to him, he threw them away (in front of him, but he didn't notice), and ran at Bridge.

"I'm gonna rip you to little tiny pieces!" he yelled.

Seconds before reaching Bridge, Kat Manx appeared at the doorframe, and raised her pistol, firing off a single shot. The shot struck Nomad's Eyes' leg, burning through his suit and once more saving Bridge.

"Ouch!! Owowowow!!" he screamed, stopping short of Bridge and raising his leg to grab onto and hold onto it with both hands. He hopped around on one foot, and then, hopping around, hopped onto the bundle of pens.

The consequences that held for him included that he first of all, slipped on the round, smooth body of the numerous pens on the floor, and on one foot, he wasn't able to keep his balance. Letting go of his foot, his arms flailed around wildly as he put his wounded leg back down...onto another bunch of pens. He slipped, and this time, fell onto the floor and struck his head, knocking himself out.

Bridge stared at his fallen form, before he too fell back, closing his eyes and letting out a massive sigh of relief. "Well, whadyya know," he said to no one in particular, having not seen Kat. "The pen _is_ mightier than the sword."

Kat paused, wondering whether to or to not enter, and then heard the clattering of feet behind her. She whipped around, her weapon raised. The three Black Ops who had been following her were dead, ambushed by an elevator full of the maniacs they were fighting, which meant that there could only be unfriendly people moving up. She had only survived by leaping down the staircase, her feline nature allowing her to survive exceptionally deadly falls (cats always did land on their feet after all). While it had saved her life, it meant that she was late arriving to capture the leader. Not too mention that she had spent a few minutes hacking into the sect's main computer database, to discover the next vital piece of information she needed, which had also delayed her.

The clattering of feet slowed, and she found herself staring down two S.P.D. Rangers, the Red and Yellow ones, their weapons slightly raised, but also slightly aimed away from her. Kat lowered her pistol, and they did the same, making sure their Enforcers were aimed away from her.

"Your friend's in there," she said, holstering the pistol and walking past them.

They stared after her.

"Hey, only one of your friends is still alive!" the Red Ranger shouted back to her. "He...or she, is still in a bit of shock! Down in the lobby!"

Kat nodded, and started down the stairs, slowly walking a bit faster. She'd only hurl herself down staircases if it was really necessary. S.P.D. had gotten to the leader first, and it was a tradition on her long-gone home that whoever had gotten the kill was entitled to it. She had only helped the agent; after all, the leader did slip, and she could only guess that the agent had thrown the pens. It was very...unconventional, but she couldn't deny its effectiveness.

Reaching the destroyed lobby, Kat heard the sounds of a pair of dropships waiting outside, and saw one of the Black Ops huddled up into a ball in the corner, rocking back and forth. Rolling her eyes, Kat walked over.

"Hey," she nudged him. "Get up. We're getting out of here."

When he didn't respond, Kat crouched down until she was (hopefully) eye level with the traumatised person (the visor made things so much harder). She reached out, and touched his shoulder.

"The dropship's here, soldier. We need to leave, now."

The Black Ops still didn't respond. With a sigh, Kat reached out, and unclasped the Black Op's helmet, and removed it. Much to her shock and horror...

Jones Chavez was the survivor. And he was no longer in shock, and was grinning at her.

Kat cursed loudly.

* * *

Bridge and the two surviving Rangers came out of the building, Nomad's Eyes handcuffed and led between them. A black dropship rose up, and blasted off, without the laser batteries answering. They had all been destroyed, thanks to the efforts of the Ranger squad he had led. A single S.P.D. dropship also awaited them, the engines idling and kicking up large clouds of dust.

He waved to the pilot, who opened the ramps and allowed them inside.

"G' day sir," the pilot greeted.

"Nice to meet you. Come on, Cruger's waiting. Step to it," Bridge said, clapping the pilot's shoulder.

"Yes sir. Strap yourselves in; we'll be arriving at the _Boundless_ in just under ten minutes. Once clear of the atmosphere, feel free to wander around the cabin," the pilot announced, flicking switches and pressing buttons.

The dropship lifted off, and followed its counterpart, blasting into space and into the waiting landing bays of the S.P.D. frigate _Boundless_. The small shuttle was swallowed up the by comparatively massive bulk of the frigate, which then spun around (slowly of course) and then took off.

* * *

**Time: 0645 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Interrogation Room 024, S.P.D. Central HQ**

"Okay, okay! I'll talk!" the one-eyed leader cried out.

Strapped to a chair in one of the many interrogation rooms, Nomad's Eyes eyed the four Rangers standing around the room holding Delta Enforcers uneasily. After an hour of constant questioning and off the record threats, he had finally cracked.

"Where is the disc?" Cruger growled.

"I don't have it! You have to believe me!"

"Then where is it?" demanded Cruger.

"It's been exchanged! The Castillo Frontier has it!"

Cruger sighed, and left the room. Bridge came around the corner, and saw him standing in the hall.

"What's wrong sir?" Bridge asked as he came up to his superior officer, as the door closed to the sound of a person being zapped into a Containment Card.

"...things have just gotten worse," Cruger grumbled.


	7. Zeta Bound

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: What did I tell you about last chapter eh? Too many high-tech's for your liking? And in other news, I'm really sorry for how long it took me to get this chapter out. A large combination of things set this back, but hopefully this chapter will make up for it, and also just as hopefully, the next one will be up on time. If you notice, I have started to begin adding quotes to the beginning of each chapter, starting from this chapter. They will serve to give you a small hint at the chapter, so I hope you do enjoy the new addition. But there definitely a formatting error within the quote that I cannot undo for some weird ass reason. It's not my fault! I hope it doesn't detract from the experience but (sigh) if it doesn, then I'm sorry.

Read and review, and thanks for waiting and pray that I get the next one up much, much faster (if there's more reviews :) )

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

__

An inescapable and unavoidable truth of piloting a space ship is that it is bound to be hijacked, at some point or another. In such circumstances, one's

_best defence against hijackers is to be devoid of said hijackers. Failing that, the next best defence would be to have a secret agent aboard the hijacked ship in question. And the only thing better than having one secret agent aboard, apart from having no said hijackers, is having two secret agents aboard. _

_Excerpt from 'A Captain's Guide', written by now-retired Captain Bellanci of the shuttle _Star Traveller

**

* * *

**

Time: 0650 hours, galactic standard time / Location: S.P.D. Central HQ

"How is this bad?" Bridge asked in confusion as Cruger straightened up and sighed again.

"You know the Castillo Frontier, don't you?" Cruger slowly began. It was too early in the morning for this...and he hadn't found his aspirin either.

Bridge nodded. "A powerful terrorist/militant group. They've been raising hell all over the galaxy," he said, directly quoting the information that was stored in the databanks.

"Yes. Then it should be relatively easy to figure out that they'll use it for no good, and getting it back from their hands will require a lot of fire and manpower...man and firepower that we can't spare, at the moment anyway," Cruger said as Bridge nodded.

"Do you want me to go and find them anyway?" asked Bridge.

Cruger nodded. "It's the only way. You're the only one who can do this without a massive shift of Rangers. But, you'll have to find out where they actually are right now. We have no intelligence, no stories, no rumours, not a hint of nothing that will tell us or hint as to where they are."

"Okay," Bridge said. "Can I start now?"

"Get to it, Carson. We're depending on you," Cruger said as Bridge left.

* * *

**Time: 0630 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Chimera shuttle en route to Newtech City, Earth**

"Kat, where are you?" Felix looked concerned over the monitor of the shuttle as Kat flew it.

"I'm off for a long overdue vacation," she replied.

Felix raised a brow. "This is no time to be playing games, Kat. I've got Beutat barking up my rear about your location."

"Tell him I'm off investigating a lead I found yesterday," Kat said offhandedly.

"Kat..." warned Felix. "You don't just run off like that!"

"I know, it's against protocol. But I have a feeling this is a diminishing opportunity. Tell Beutat I'll do _almost_ whatever he wants when I get back."

"Why did I have the feeling you were going to say that?" Felix chuckled.

"You know me too well."

"Got that right. Hard not to know you after what, twenty years?"

"More like thirty," Kat corrected.

"Around the same, just a few decades off," Felix waved off the correction.

Kat didn't say anything for a time as she concentrated on flying the shuttle, weaving past lanes after lane of freighters, other shuttles and a huge variety of craft.

"Yoohoo, anybody home?" Felix asked.

"Yeah, I'm here. What's happening?"

"Nothing. Just checking to see if you were alive or not."

"Then how am I talking to you and flying the shuttle at the same time?" Kat asked, raising her brow.

"The walking dead multitasking."

"Well, I'm alive, and I will be for another eight hundred or so years. Get used to it," she said with a grin. "And how is Jones by the way?"

"I never knew you cared," Felix said surprised.

"I honestly don't. But I feel obligated to ask, considering that I saved him yesterday, unfortunately. I'm still trying to work out what part of me possessed me to do such a thing."

Felix laughed. "Face it Kat; you have a heart, no matter how much you try to seem like a cold-blooded assassin."

"I've always had a heart! It just doesn't reach out to some people," Kat answered.

"That's not too hard to imagine, really. Well as for your other question, Jones is alright. Only minor injuries, and saddened that you left. He's going teary," Felix said. "But apart from heartbreak, he should be up for duty again within the next couple of hours."

"If he lives, that's alright. I couldn't care less if I broke his heart."

"That's the Kat I know." Felix looked away from the screen as one of his staff called for him. "Wait, I've got to go. More patients coming in," Felix sighed. "I'll tell Beutat that you're off investigating another lead. You owe me a drink after this."

"Alright, thanks. Bye, Felix, I'll buy you the drink later," Kat said as Felix waved, and the screen winked off.

* * *

**Time: 1104 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Alternative Information, Newtech City, Earth.**

"Hey guys," Bridge said with a wave as he walked into the small business again.

"Hi Bridge," Z answered, before turning back to her customer. "Can you wait a bit? I need to finish something first."

"Sure," he said, walking over and sitting on a couch as Z talked to the person.

In the back, he could hear the sounds of Jack debating with a haggling customer. In fact, the shouts were progressively getting louder, which caused Z to need to raise her voice over Jack's, who in turn started to talk louder.

"Excuse me," Z said hastily to the customer as she got up and stalked to the room Jack was in.

She flung the door open, and stomped inside as Bridge listened, awaiting the inevitable.

_Smack! _

It came.

"Ouch!" Jack shouted, just before another audible _smack_ was heard. "Z!"

_Smack!_

"You asshole!" Bridge heard her shout, before hearing another _smack_! "You just had turn everything into a damned competition, don't ya?"

"But Z I-..." _smack_! "Ouch! Damn that hurt!" _smack_! "Z!" _smack_!

"Trying to talk over me, will ya?"

_Smack! _

"Z! Be reasonable!"

_Smack_!

"It's just not enough to shout when I'm doing something, is it?" _Smack_! "You just had to take it further!" _smack_! "Try to talk over me now!"

"Z!" _smack_! "There's a customer!" _smack_! "Over the phone!"

"Let's see how you like it when you have to shout over me!"

"Z! I'm sorry!" Jack cried out just as Z had raised her hand for the knock-out blow.

She glared at him. "No more," she threatened, and walked back out to a very shocked client. "Hi, where were we again?" she said sweetly, putting on a smile.

The client gaped at her, his mouth opening and closing in a way not too dissimilar to a goldfish. Of course, given that he'd come from an aquatic planet, all he had to do was flop around on the floor to complete the impersonation of goldfish out of the water.

"Umm, I think he was first," he nervously said, motioning to Bridge. "I…need to do…something..."

"Sure," Z said as he slinked off his chair and out the door as Bridge came up. "What's up Bridge?"

"...you're scary," Bridge told her.

Z laughed. "Thanks, I'll take that as a compliment. Did you need something again?"

"Yeah..." Bridge said.

"What, another criminal gang you need to find the location of?" Z half-teased.

"Actually, that is what I need," Bridge chuckled.

"Go on."

"Do you know anything like the whereabouts of the Castillo Frontier? Our databases have everything on what they've done and nothing on where they are."

"Well, that's a great situation," Z remarked.

"I know," Bridge nodded. "I was going to send a complaint to the Supreme Commander, but agents don't win arguments. We're simply here to accomplish the impossible."

"And thereby proving it's not impossible," Z said.

"And that too. So, anything?" Bridge asked.

"Yeah. Have you heard of Soletu Zeta?"

"I think so," Bridge said carefully, scratching his head. "Wasn't it on the news a few days or weeks ago back?"

Z sighed. "Honestly Bridge, what kind of secret agent are you if you live under a rock?"

"I don't live under rock! I'm just very forgetful!" Bridge protested. "...fine, _very_ forgetful," he amended (albeit reluctantly) under Z's stare.

"Well, will this help?" Z suggested, holding out a newspaper (The Newtech City Times) for him.

In large font and bold lettering that was impossible for anyone who wasn't visually impaired to miss, the headline read: **RESURGENCE OF CASTILLO FRONTIER ON SOLETU ZETA!**

Bridge had just one word to say. "Oh."

Z smirked, and placed the newspaper back. "Okay, now down to the real stuff, the kind of stuff that they don't want normal average people to read and the real, completely uncensored stuff."

"...you sound like an advertisement," Bridge said.

"Thank you very much. Now, would you like to hear it or not?" Z asked.

"Hear what?"

Z groaned in frustration and slapped her forehead with her palm, which had only just recently completed the same motion albeit with a great deal more force against Jack. "The news, you doofus!"

"Oh yeah. Well, might as well, seeing how little I can get from anywhere else," Bridge said.

"Finally. Progress," Z mumbled under her breath, before raising her voice to more audible levels. "Alright, here's the gist of it."

She pulled out a map of the afore-mentioned planet. "Hold this."

"This?" Bridge asked incredulously, holding the paper-thin (with good reason: it _was_ paper) map up.

"No. This," Z corrected, tapping a button as a holographic, three-dimensional view of the planet popped up, in full colour. "You can throw that old thing away now."

"Okay." Bridge tossed it behind his shoulder as it flapped to the ground and moved to stand next to Z.

"Now, I'm sure you've heard of some of the ads for this planet," she started off, referring to sheer number of travel/holiday ads for the planet. "But what they don't tell you is that three-quarters of the planet has been enveloped in a secret war." The said three-quarters of the holographic version of the planet suddenly were coloured in red.

"War?" Bridge asked, shocked.

"Between the Soletu Armed Forces and the Castillo Frontier," Z said. "It's actually been going on for quite awhile, so I expect that it'll still be happening when you go there…if that's your intention of course."

"Umm, anything else?" Bridge asked weakly.

"Nope, except to try to avoid being killed. I'd hate to see that happen when I have money riding on Jack. And the fastest way to get to Soletu Zeta right now is a intergalactic shuttle down by the Andrews Launch and Landing Pad."

"Money? What money?" Bridge asked in confusion as he started towards the door, nearly forgetting what Z had said about the launch pad.

"Oh, nothing," Z said with a mysterious smile, waving as Bridge left, nearly bumping into the person who was coming in. "Hey Kat."

"Hi," the feline responded as she walked in. "How're things?"

"They're good. What do you need?" Z asked, moving to sit down at one of the tables with Kat in tow.

"Just a little information," the other semi-secret agent said as she poured a small glass of clear, sparkling water.

"On what?"

"Soletu Zeta. I need to know the fastest way to get there now, or within the next few hours, what's going on there and…I think that's about it," Kat said, a frown making its way onto her angelic face (despite being nothing short of a devil against her enemies) as she thought.

"The fastest way here? It's a shuttle near Andrews Space Launch and Landing Pad that should depart for a route that stops at Soletu Zeta and then makes another round about the galaxy. It leaves in a few hours," Z said.

"Alright, that helps a lot. Thanks," Kat added as she took a sip of water. It also reminded her that she owed Felix a drink after this. She briefly played with the idea of taking him to a nightclub, before discarding it in favour of a drink in the _Phoenix_'s bar. It was far easier, and although it was a very amusing idea of getting Felix to enter a nightclub, it would have been a nightmare attempting to get authorisation and such.

"Not a problem. What else was it that you wanted to know?"

"The current state of the planet. I know most of the details like the weather, traditions and customs and other things like that, but you know how they always manage to miss something. I want to know what it is that they're missing."

"A wise choice," Z said, nodding. "Well, come over here and I'll show you."

She got up and headed over to the holographic projector which still happened to be on, followed by Kat.

"Here. This is an image of Soletu Zeta," she said. "It's currently embroiled in war in the parts that are highlighted red."

Kat stared at the large parts of the planet that were red. "How come nobody, not even us, has noticed that before?"

"It's been a small-scale guerrilla war in fact," Z informed her getting up. "Their military's been a bit tight on information."

"Right. Well," Kat said with a sigh as she stood up, and stretched. "I'd better be off now. Information to find, people to recover and saving other people and what not. It's never done, but someone has to do it."

"And that someone is always you?" Z chuckled as Jack finally recovered enough courage to pop his head out.

"Bye Kat," he waved as she too left within tens of minutes of Bridge leaving.

"Get back in there!" Z snapped, still more than a bit annoyed at Jack and his earlier 'stunt'.

With the memory of the force with which Z had slapped him with, it was more than enough inspiration for Jack to quickly call a retreat back into the room where he was working upon more and more requests.

* * *

**Time: 1134 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Newtech City, Earth, en route to Andrews Launch and Landing Pad**

Everything in the galaxy had at least one thing that they feared. Whether it was a particularly shiny blade headed for them, or the glinting of an over-polished gun barrel pointed right at them, or the realisation that they had drank poison (it was unfortunate that most people only realised they had taken poison after drinking it and waiting far too long) or simply death, everything feared something.

To Bridge Carson, S.P.D. agent tasked with anything and everything short of simply being a ground-pounding grunt, fear was something that was semi-natural. Having faced down all the afore-mentioned things before (save for the poison; S.P.D. agents rarely came to luxurious dinners to be poisoned by whoever) and lived to tell the tale (many, many, many times over), Bridge feared something completely different.

And right now, in a standard S.P.D. Cruiser with another cadet along acting as a chauffeur, he was stuck right in the middle of his worst nightmare.

A traffic jam.

Oh sure, there were other things he feared as well, but none so much as the universally hated and despised traffic jam. Every single lane was clogged to the max with cars crammed into every nook and cranny. Drivers shouted obscenities at each other, not bothering to identify who they were specifically swearing at, and other drivers, mistaking the comments about their mothers and sisters and pets, retaliated with some choice comments of their own. In addition to the sheer amount of obscenities and rude gestures that filled the street as drivers swore at each other and even a poor innocent pedestrians who had been wise enough to avoid driving and used their feet, drivers also honked horns at each other, adding even more mayhem to the sheer amount of mayhem that was also circling around mayhem.

It was a nightmare, to be brief and frank.

Bridge sighed again as the lanes slowly and agonisingly moved a few cars up. A small improvement but it did little to help the sheer amount of shouting that was surrounding him.

He sighed again in frustration.

Bored with staring out at the endless sea of cars out in front of him, he contented himself to turn to the cadet sitting next to him and started some conversation.

"What's your name?"

"Cadet Ronin sir."

"You a Ranger yet?"

"Not yet sir."

"C-Squad?"

"Yes sir."

A pause as Bridge shifted to take a look at the traffic again.

"I hate traffic jams. Don't you? Of course everyone hates them. I mean, who wants to be stuck in the same place for over an hour? Even though it's only been about half an hour…but still, it looks like that we'll be stuck here for the greater part of an hour. What a waste of time," Bridge sighed, not giving the cadet a chance to answer.

"Has your Commander ever deployed the Zords?"

"A few times sir."

"Do you have a flying one?"

"Yes sir."

"Doesn't it have a winch kind of thing?"

"I, uh, think so. Sir."

"Then why can't they hook up a couple of cars and whisk them away? Wouldn't that clear this stupid jam?"

"Maybe sir."

"Well, at least your Commander has decided to do something," Bridge said, pointing to the several S.P.D. Cruisers which pulled up. Two teams of Rangers came out and started to help direct the traffic. "Though I'm not sure how that constitutes as help. Constitute is such a great word. Don't you agree? It rolls off your tongue so easily. _Cooonnssttitttuuuutte_..."

However, many of the drivers ignorant of the one sided conversation taking place in the S.P.D. jeep were still agitated and as such, redirected their anger and as a side result, their curses at the two Ranger teams. One particularly agitated driver was engaged in a particularly heated argument with a particularly short-tempered Ranger; their argument was threatening to break out into something much bigger and much worse than a simply argument.

"Uh, sir? Shouldn't we help?" the cadet sitting next to him asked uncertainly.

"How? We're stuck here," Bridge responded, kicking his feet up onto the dashboard of the Cruiser…somehow.

It was true. They were in the middle lane, stuck between cars on either side.

* * *

**Time: 1135 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Newtech City, Earth.**

Kat did her best to suppress a laugh as she walked along the footpath, passing other humans and aliens. To her right was the street…completely clogged up with cars that were unmoving.

Despite a car being faster, the fact that they often turned the streets into a traffic jam was enough to discourage her from getting one. Besides, there was no way she could have brought one with her on the shuttle. Speaking if which, she was considering leaving her shuttle behind: she doubted that a shuttle bearing the Chimera markings would be well received by the Castillo Frontier.

Taking another glance into the cars, Kat involuntarily let out a small snicker. One of the people stuck in the front passenger seat—a teenage girl wearing far too much make up—glanced out and saw her. The girl gave Kat the finger as the feline walked past, despising her freedom of movement.

Kat grinned back and gave a mocking wave as she continued her walk towards the Andrews Launching and Landing Pad. She passed by even more cars and then looked ahead. She saw the two Ranger teams, trying to shuffle the cars through.

More accurately, at least eight of the Rangers were trying to. One was on the ground, involved in a brawl including the driver of a car. The other Ranger was trying to separate them without success. With any small amount of luck, Kat would be able to pass without a problem, but given how most were distracted by either the fight or the onslaught of motorised vehicles, that wouldn't be a problem.

Halfway (at least, that was what she estimated) to her destination, her communicator rang. Grumbling, Kat took it out of her pocket and flipped it open.

"Manx here."

"Kat, babe," came the sly voice of Jones Chavez. "I just wanted to-..."

"Is the commander in life-threatening danger?" Kat interrupted him before he could get any further.

"Uh, nope, but-..."

"Is Felix in life-threatening danger?"

"No, I just-..."

"Has anyone boarded the _Phoenix_ with the intention of killing everyone aboard and capturing it?"

"Not yet, but-..."

"Good. Unless any three of these situations are actually happening, _do not call me_," Kat ground out. She snapped it shut before he could say anything. She sighed as she sat down on a bench which was under a shady tree, and opened her communicator again. This time, she punched in Felix's code and waited.

"Hello?" came Felix's voice.

"Felix, do not give Jones my number!" Kat snapped.

"Jeez, calm down!"

"Calm? I just found out that you of all people gave Jones Chavez, the person I would absolutely love to see torn apart by wild animals, my damned number!"

"Okay Kat! It won't happen again, you have my word," Felix soothed. "And besides, you can always change it."

"I don't want to change my code every single day! And unless the _Phoenix_ or you or the commander is in serious danger, leave me alone to my mission, would you?"

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry Kat, and you don't owe me that drink later."

"Don't worry about it; I'll get you one sooner or later," Kat said, before closing the line and placing the communicator back in her pocket.

As she walked to the booths that separated the people leaving and people entering the space port, she passed by an aging man in a white and black jeep, with a equally aged woman sitting next to him. They were conversing, and Kat caught a bit of it.

"Rangers acting as police these days! Rangers! Rangers!" the man was obviously more agitated by Rangers acting as police than the traffic jam taking place around, in front of and behind them.

"Back in _MY_ days, there were no Ranger police! We were there to stop _monsters_, not clear traffic jams! We didn't reveal our identities and we sure as _hell_ weren't massed produced!"

The woman in the seat nodded as if she had heard the same rant a dozen times, which she had in fact.

"Of course Tommy. I agree with you wholeheartedly."

To Kat, it didn't seem as if she agreed; more like that she was only agreeing as a way of getting this 'Tommy' to stop going on about something he had obviously gone on about before.

She suppressed another laugh. Humans were always a good source of humour.

* * *

**Time: 1201 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Andrew's Launch and Landing Pad, Newtech City, Earth**

In the space port (as it was called such) Kat found the large shuttle that was supposed to take her to Soletu Zeta. If her memory was correct, the shuttle actually ranged from being very high-class to something akin an economy class flight, depending on the section. The passenger officer stood near the ramp with a bored expression. He regarded the people passing by him with a bored interest, he occasionally looked up at the occasional shuttle leaving with a mild interest, and regarded the city with a much greater interest.

"Ticket?" he asked in a bored tone as Kat approached. The feline approaching him was sure as hell a lot more interesting to look at than shuttles or the city, but she still didn't dampen his bored and resigned tone one bit.

"Don't have one," Kat answered.

"You'll need one."

"I've got another sort of ticket."

Suddenly he looked a great deal more interested. Glancing up at her, a grin forming, he suddenly noticed the badge she had produced, and his blood ran cold.

"O-of course," he stammered as Kat tucked away the badge. "I'll get you a room."

"Thank you," Kat replied.

Within minutes of the officer call into his radio, another person had come down from the ship to lead her to her room.

"This way ma'am," he said as Kat followed him into the interior, somewhere a lot closer to the economy-class section, but not at the rear of the ship: she was probably just a bit further from the middle, adequate rooms.

"Thank you, and stop with the ma'am stuff. I'm not quite old enough for that yet."

"If that's your wish," the attendant/officer said, with an overtly polite bow of his alien head, his two antennas bobbing back and forth with the motion.

He led Kat to her small room on the shuttle, where the rusted door which had been painted over slid open with no small amount of noise.

"I'm sorry about the room, but it was all that was available on such a short notice," the attendant/officer (Kat still had trouble figuring out which role he played) said with a bow.

"It's quite alright," she said, walking into the room. "Oh, wait."

The attendant/officer paused as Kat fished out a small bundle of notes, and pressed it into his hand. He looked uncertain at her.

"Thanks for any trouble I caused and a tip," she said.

"Thank you," he said, bowing again (and with the antennas following suit as well) and leaving.

Kat sighed as she sat down on the edge of the bed and stretched her legs, lifting them off the floor. Being an agent was such a stressful job.

Walking around the room a little, she, or rather, her sense of smell found several places she didn't really want to go to. With another sigh, she sat back on the bed, removed her pistol from its snug holster and placed it on the bed. The bedside table (if there was one: the 'room' she was in didn't even have one) was too obvious. Placing it under her pillow caused her to have even less sleep, and with her job, sound sleep was nothing short of a luxury and the things that got in the way of a good few hours solid sleep were definitely not appreciated (by her at least: Morgana claimed that she was better because she wasn't afraid to compromise a few hours sleep, but that point was virtually irrelevant). And besides that…that was basically all the places that most agents would hide their guns.

Several agents who had been with her on a joint operation (which was rare) complained about the fact that she placed the pistol next to her and didn't have it running fully charged (Kat didn't like the idea of sleeping next to a pistol ready to fire). She had told them to go and do whatever they wanted (in a far more vulgar way) and continued doing so, confident that her proficiency in close-combat would hold off any opponent until her pistol was charged, at which point, her attacker(s) would basically be screwed.

Not bothering to take her heeled boots off, Kat swung her legs onto the bed. It wasn't like anyone would really care about it: this was one of the cheaper rooms that few people wanted. All Kat wanted was a place to peacefully sleep for the next couple of hours. And besides, a room to herself was indefinitely better than sharing a room with some other person who would interrupt her sleep time and time again.

* * *

**Time: 1331 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Mess Hall of Shuttle _Star Traveller_, now en route to Soletu Zeta**

Bridge sighed not-too-differently to Kat as he ate his food. Served upon a tray was what was claimed to be roast beef, mashed potatoes and other assorted veggie goodness, some dark liquid that was swore to resemble gravy and a small serve of ice cream that had more ice than cream. It also lacked toast, or cooked bread of any kind.

In other words, a standard public shuttle class, mass-cooked meal. Bridge knew that most of it was probably something freeze-dried and then very quickly heated up again and probably reconstituted with water. It wasn't much of a meal, but had he not been caught at the traffic jam, he would have bought something else and brought it aboard. Another reason for him to hate traffic jams. It was also another reason why Kat didn't go into the mess hall: she'd prefer to eat the field MRE's over the stuff served in the mess hall any day.

Bridge groaned as he got up from the bench, taking his tray with him and placing it in the bin. His seat was immediately taken by another person about to suffer through eating the slop.

He had not gone three steps to the exit when suddenly, a group of laser rifle wielding people burst in, pointing their rifles menacingly. They were wearing baggy clothing that was sloppily striped to resemble military clothing, and they had balaclavas over their heads (human or otherwise).

"Everybody on the ground!" they shouted, but obviously hadn't accounted for Bridge being there.

His pistol was up in his hands and out of its holster in seconds. In another second, he had fired, and the person in the middle dropped. He ducked to the ground just as the others fired a pretty stream of lasers where he had once stood. Sparks filled the mess hall, just as the people started screaming, also filling the hall with sound and almost overpowering the sounds of lasers being fired.

A stray laser struck the table and tossed the half-empty trays in the air, throwing the food in all directions. It also gave Bridge an idea as he fired several beams of light over to force the attackers to stop shooting. He popped up, and fired one shot at the closest table to the attackers.

Food instantly filled the air as the table buckled under the shots, and threw its (non) nutritional goodness into the air. The trays released their contents in the air, which promptly fell under the influence of artificial gravity, and rained down like miniature bombs on the attackers. They screamed as the trays pummelled them mercilessly, striking heads, necks, bodies and toes before the second wave of food rained down from the heavens.

Bridge now truly believed that the food served was not just food, but a very potent weapon. It trickled down from their balaclavas and into their eyes, disrupting eyesight as they tried desperately in vain to remove the gunk. The food set off mass allergies, instantly causing a cacophony of sneezes and coughs and many, many rashes and in one unfortunate case, one of them (obviously an alien) flopped to the floor and rolled around, foaming at the mouth (the poor thing wouldn't set foot on another freighter if he survived this).

With one shot, the entire attacking force had been incapacitated, as the ones without allergies were knocked unconscious by the mass of falling (metal) trays that thankfully didn't have sharp edges, but were blunt enough to cause even the most war-hardened of Troobians to fall victim to a knockout blow.

Unfortunately for Bridge, several other attackers, hearing the laser fire, bolted in. More incomprehensible shouting, and this time, Bridge had no more tables to shoot up into the air. And with several of them aiming weapons dangerously at the grouped up civilians, Bridge threw his pistol down and raised his hands.

"Anybody have a white cloth and stick?" he asked.

* * *

Kat on the other hand, was soundly sleeping when the attackers (whoever they were) struck the ship. She was rudely awakened from both a good sleep and a good dream (involving her being surrounded by the bodies of Beutat, Morgana and Jones Chavez) by a massive shaking in the ship. The ship-quake was quickly followed by laser fire and shouting and plenty of explosions. She had been at her job long enough to know that the three put together typically meant that things were going south very quickly.

Before Kat's hand could touch the cold grip of her pistol, the door burst open and a pair of heavily armed thugs stormed the room. Whatever they were expecting, they thought that the guns and their own physical size was enough.

They obviously had never run into an agent of Kat's calibre before.

Before one could even shout anything, he found Kat's boot buried in his mouth, and was sent right out the door. In the same motion, her leg swung around and clipped the side of the other thug's head, sending him on a dizzying meeting with the floor.

Outside the room, a trio of similarly dressed and armed thugs were surprised when one of their comrades was sent right out the door, before hearing the sound of another person collapsing to the floor. With a roar, they rushed in, and fired.

A pair of lasers flew over Kat's head, narrowly missing her ears. With a hiss, Kat flung herself aside just as another pair of lasers (the other one was standing in the doorway and not firing for unknown reasons) scorched the deck. Again she backflipped away from her previous position before flattening herself against the floor, to once again have a pair of lasers miss her. Springing up, Kat lunged at closest.

The full force of Kat's momentum crashed into one of the thugs, sending him to the ground as Kat leapt off. She landed right in front of the other thug and delivered a powerful punch straight to his face.

"Thanks for the clean," she said, referring to areas where the lasers had struck and indeed had wiped out the dirt and grime.

Another thug leapt on her, pinning her arms behind her back.

"I got her!" the thug shouted as Kat's ears picked up several more people running towards them, people who were presumably unfriendly (towards her in any case).

Kat wrenched her arms out of his grip, and spun around, her arm striking the thug behind her on the face.

"Get your hands off me!" Kat shouted angrily as the thug was sent spinning to the floor. She never was in a good mood after being woken up from a good sleep and even now she was absolutely furious, having being woken up when she was sleeping _and_ when she was having possibly the best dream of her life (maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration—one she had a few years ago was quite possibly better).

Then another pair of them ran in, vaulting over the other groaning bodies on the ground, courtesy and testament to Kat's prowess as an agent. Then the third thug ran in, and promptly tripped over one of the bodies and fell face first.

One of the two who hadn't tripped however, managed to tackle Kat to the ground. Pinned, Kat wasn't so much of a fighter when her agility was severely restricted—or in this case, gone completely.

She was lifted up, the thug's arms wrapped around her waist. Not liking her position or the position of the thug's arms either, Kat swore in all the languages she knew at the thug, even managing to land a kick against his groin. But, despite his pain, he still clung onto her long enough for the other one still standing to ram the butt of his rifle into Kat's stomach.

Without a sound, Kat dropped to the ground, her vision becoming blurred. Another blow struck her head and she dropped, blurred vision being replaced by a vision going black.

Before she fell into unconsciousness completely, Kat still managed to hear them.

"Tie her up. She's a feisty one," one said.

"Jenkins, stay here and _make sure she doesn't escape_," the other said firmly.

Kat finally gave into the not-so-nice form of sleep. She was the odd one out, her lithe form in contrast to the bulky and big forms of the other thugs she had knocked unconscious as well.

* * *

**Time: Unknown / Location: Room aboard boarded shuttle _Star Traveller_**

Consciousness slowly returned to Kat.

Like the progression of television from non-existence, to black and white and then finally to glorious colour, Kat's vision too started to return, from pure black to hazy and blurred images, to finally full clarity.

The sight of the room apparently lying sideways greeted her.

Kat twisted around, in an attempt to free herself, but instead found herself tightly bound by ropes. She was lying on her bed (still fully clothed) with her arms tied behind her; which explained why the room was sideways and why the guard was standing on the wall. Unless of course, the entire ship had tilted sideways, but shuttles rarely had the manoeuvring capacity to do that (thankfully too: public shuttles were, in a twisted sense of coincidence, almost exclusively piloted by lunatic stunt-pilot-wannabes).

A groan caught her captor's attention. The person turned around, revealing a relatively young human once the balaclava had been removed.

"You okay?" he asked, catching Kat off-guard.

"I'm fine," Kat said with no small amount of venom as she tried to sit up.

"Here, let me help."

"I can do it myself," she snapped, before swinging her legs up and over the side of the bed until she was in a sitting position.

The sound of heavy footsteps caught Kat's attention, and her ears twisted ever so slightly in its general direction. Her guard poked his head out and spoke to the person coming in.

That gave Kat the opportunity to formulate her escape. She twisted her wrists around slightly, allowing her to begin sawing through the ropes with her sharp claws. While they looked like normal fingernails, when needed, they could become sharp enough to slice through most things short of metal.

The footsteps came closer, and finally, a large person stepped in the doorway. Clad in a large jacket that was badly painted to mimic military camouflage and with a laser rifle on his back, the person was big and undoubtedly strong, but Kat was willing to bet that he also lacked brains.

"Well, if it ain't the little bitch," he sneered.

"Wrong animal," Kat deadpanned as the smaller of the two looked around.

"Wha?" the large thug looked confused.

"Don't you know what a bitch is?" Kat asked, keeping her eyes on him as she continued to saw through the rope.

"Ummm…it's you!" The thug laughed uproariously, just as the rope gave way.

Before he had finished laughing manically, Kat was already in the air. Her boot connected with his face, and sent him crashing into the ground.

"You little--…!"

He didn't have time to finish the sentence or swear as Kat almost casually delivered a roundhouse kick to his head that knocked his head around and spun him back. Kat jabbed his stomach with her heel and then just as casually, kicked the downed and groaning thug in the head once to knock him unconscious.

"For your information, a bitch is a dog. A female one, to be exact," Kat told the unconscious body, just as the other guard shakily raised his rifle to her head.

"Don't move!" he cried.

Kat sighed in disappointment, before lunging at the young person. He was caught off-guard, and Kat promptly twisted his weapon away from him, and knocked him down.

"Your new at this, aren't you?" she asked, crouching next to him.

He nodded fearfully.

"I'll give you a bit of advice: get out of this while you can. It's not a nice business when I'm around," Kat said, slinging the rifle over her shoulder before collecting her pistol from the bed and charging it.

She poked her head out of the room, and slowly slid out of it, her pistol raised and ready to fire the instant someone hostile crossed her path or sight. Her first priority was to make sure that the ship could still fly, and then to correct its course if need be. Honestly, she knew that it was better to free the hostages first then to secure the ship, but what good was she if the ship continued towards a new destination, one far from hope?

With that in mind, she started towards the bridge.

Until her ears picked up the sounds of an argument nearby, and the distressed cries of other people, most likely other hostages. Biting her lip, Kat glanced at the direction and began to equivocate. Should she save the captain and place the ship on the right course first, which was the right thing to do, or should she drop by and rescue the hostages, which was the _morally_ right thing to do?

Decisions, decisions.

With her mind made up, Kat headed for the bridge. She had gone no more than three steps when her back slumped and she sighed explosively, before turning around and heading back for the place she heard the voices.

* * *

Bridge was far from comfortable.

After all, being locked in the mess hall with dozens, if not hundreds of other people, and being surrounded by at least ten people holding guns and wearing feature-concealing clothing was quite possibly the exact polar opposite of 'comfortable'. At least, it was to Bridge.

After surrendering to the attackers, Bridge was forcibly removed of his weapons and then promptly tied up. He had no idea where his pistol was, and he was sitting in the middle of all the other captured people (who _weren't_ tied up by the way). This of course, essentially made an escape to freedom practically impossible without having someone else to take the hits while he tried to disarm someone, _with his arms folded behind his back_ and not get shot to pieces in the process!

Basically, escape was impossible. Bridge sighed. Next time he got back to S.P.D., he was going to ask for a new training exercise: Escaping When Bound From Terrorists Who Are Holding You And A Dozen/Hundred Other People Hostage With Your Arms Tied Behind Your Back. And Without Weapons Of Any Kind.

He had a feeling that the new course would be a hit with Commander Cruger. The old dog loved anything that would put the cadets and agents through something or anything that was impossible. Of course, this new course would have to be a simulation. An enactment would take away the realism of the experience (not to mention that cadets had a way of screwing around with enactments and not taking them seriously) and putting them in a real situation was simply unfeasible. Or was it unfathomable? Either way, a simulation was the best way to do it (as it was with anything else). The only thing he cursed was the fact that he didn't go through the simulation _before_ ending up in the real life situation. Life really was always against him for some very strange reason.

"Hey, what's going on?" he called out.

"Shut yo mouth," snapped one of the captors at the door. He turned from looking out the window of the door to stare at Bridge. "You don't need to know anything, S.P.D. punk."

"How'd you know I was S.P.D.?" Bridge asked.

The thug held up Bridge's pistol. The letters 'S.P.D.' were imprinted on its handle in big, black and bold lettering as well to top it off.

"Oh."

"Anymore stupid questions?" the thug sneered.

Bridge saw something through the small window pane on the door. A person with cat-like ears was peering through the glass, and he saw what looked like the barrel of a laser rifle protruding over her shoulder.

"Yeah, what's that behind you?"

"Huh?"

Before the thug could even turn around, the butt of a laser rifle shattered through the glass with a shattering sound, and impacted on his cheek with a pulpy _smack_ sound. The impact sent the thug flying to the ground, crashing to the floor with a crashing sound.

There was instant pandemonium as the thugs turned to the attacker, before a series of lasers, aimed well above even the tallest hostage's head flew across the room. They mostly struck the walls and support columns, throwing clouds of bright sparks through the air, creating a fireworks show bright enough to blind (temporarily) the thugs.

Bridge, seeing the opportunity, shouted at the top of his lungs. "Attack!"

That was all the encouragement that the hostages needed. Fear was now replaced by anger, as they (unsteadily) got up as one, and hurled themselves at the confused captors, who were still trying to figure out what exactly was going on. Making his slow progress to the door, Bridge tried to reach their unknown saviour, but they were already gone. Someone who had found a knife used it to saw through his bonds, moments before Bridge was shoved to the floor by another person who was screaming bloody murder, and was attempting to reach the battered and overwhelmed captors.

* * *

Kat made her way down another corridor; once again her pistol held out in front of her while the rifle was slung over her shoulder. At these distances, a rifle was more useful as a club than to use to shoot someone. Continually glancing back behind her (years of experience in the job and several close encounters as well as witnessing similar situations first hand had given her a near dose of near paranoia of her rear. She always glanced back, especially when making ways down long corridors), Kat flattened herself against a corner of the wall once again, just as a pair of patrolling guards passed through the intersection of corridors ahead, before glancing back again.

She was getting closer to the bridge, where undoubtedly the leader sat with probably only a lieutenant or two. Kat knew these types: the leaders of organisations trying to prove themselves by instilling terror through hijacking civilian shuttles and kidnapping mostly unimportant people. The leaders of those kinds of organisations typically had massively inflated egos and superiority complexes and as such, liked to sit in the command areas of whatever they hijacked.

Which made it all the easier for her.

The second the next patrol had passed through, Kat took a deep breath, and bolted out of the intersection, hurrying along before the next patrol arrived. Whoever they were, they were both highly trained and highly incompetent. The thugs she had faced before weren't exactly competent, but these ones patrolled the area, with their rifles in the proper positions, like they knew exactly what they were doing. Shrugging off the thought and following the (conveniently) placed coloured arrows on the deck, she soon reached the door that led to another area before the bridge.

Stepping in with her pistol raised, two shots were fired, and two bodies subsequently as a result of the shots dropped to the ground. Neither of them were Kat's.

Pressing up against large blast door that led to the bridge (which had no windows to peer through), and lacking any sort of equipment that would allow her to get a fairly good idea of what lay on the other side, Kat resigned herself to the task of finding out…the hard way.

Tapping the control lightly, the door ever-so-agonisingly slowly slid open without the creaking and the groaning and the screeching that she expected of a door on the kind of ship she was on. Slipping in before the door had fully opened, Kat was inside the bridge, and quickly flattened herself against the wall. In front of her sat a person—undoubtedly the leader—on the command chair, with the chair and his back to her. The rest of the bridge crew were on their knees in front of the chair, while their own stations were manned by other people.

"You are _my_ prisoners," the leader was saying. "_I_ choose whether you live or die. My men are in position throughout the _entire_ ship and therefore, I control the lives of everyone else as well. Do you get me?"

The captured bridge crew all nodded. The captain, whose name tag read 'Captain Bellanci' looked up, and to his shock, saw another person at the door. Kat quickly raised a finger to her lips, the universal sign of 'sshhh', and hoped that the captain would understand. The slightest of nods, and Captain Bellanci turned back to their captor who was still going on about their lives in his hands…despite having gone through it already.

"Now, if you don't tell me the codes to the ship's navigational computers and the codes to the autopilot, I will shoot you," the leader threatened.

"Then you won't get the codes as well," the captain pointed out. "It's stalemate. And once we reach Soletu Zeta, I highly doubt their navy is going to resist such a target."

"Oh don't worry about that," the leader grinned. "Because _I_ am not stupid enough to remain on the ship when it reaches Soletu Zeta. Now, you have until the count of three. One…two…"

Then he felt the cold metal of a pistol pressed against the side of his head and instantly stopped counting.

"Finish that count, and I promise it'll be the last thing you say," a voice said behind him.

The other thugs-turned pilots in the bridge turned towards their leader, to see him sitting in his seat, sweat quite literally pouring down his forehead. The reason for that was standing behind him: Kat had the barrel of her pistol jammed against his head.

With a roar, they reached for their weapons.

"Drop them!" Kat ordered. "Or he bites the dust."

"You S.P.D. couldn't do that. It's against your regulations," the leader said, gaining some confidence.

"Who said I was S.P.D.?" Kat asked, and dropped her ID badge onto his lap.

His eyes widened as he saw that Kat was apart of Chimera. "Drop the weapons lads," he said quickly.

The clatter of a dozen laser pistols and rifles filled the air as they were dropped to the ground. The crew stared at their leader and his captor helplessly.

"Now, into the corner!" Kat ordered. "You too," she said, lifting the pistol away from the leader's head and gesturing with it to the corner.

Reluctantly (but not willing to see if her threat really was a bluff), the leader got up and walked over to where the rest of his men were gathered. One of his men quietly pulled out a small pistol and charged it up before looking at him for confirmation.

He nodded ever so slightly.

"You die now, bitch!" declared the guy with the gun, raising the pistol at Kat. The leader winced. He did not predict that he would openly announce his decision.

There was a single shot, and the laser pistol was suddenly flung from the person's hands and onto the deck with a clatter. The laser had entire missed his hand, but the heat radiating from it was more than enough to suggest how hot the laser could be. That and the fact that the crew member was wincing as he held his slightly burnt hand.

"Try that stunt again, and the next one goes straight between your eyes," Kat warned still trying to get something from the captain. In a much lower voice, she began talking to the true captain again. "Is this ship still on course?"

"Of course. But what worries me is the rest of the hijackers aboard," he answered.

Kat bit her lip and started to pace around the room, thinking. She couldn't fight her way through all of them. Well, given enough time she could, but who was to stop the hijacker's leader and his men from taking over the bridge, _again_? Finally, as she glanced back at the leader, and how the men around him seemed to wait for his instructions, an epiphany hit her.

"You!" she barked across the room. Every head turned towards her.

She strode up to the leader, who after seeing how she shot the pistol out of one of his subordinate's hand, backed away as much as he could. She looked him in the eye (it didn't help his fear that she was quite tall as well) with a serious look on her face.

"Do your men willingly obey and follow every single one of your orders?" she asked.

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Every last one?" she demanded.

He nodded again. Kat stalked off towards the captain again, who was once again seated rightfully on his command chair.

"Do you have a communications line to the rest of the ship?" she asked him.

"Yeah, here." The captain pointed to a console. "It's connected to the PA system throughout the entire ship."

"Alright, thanks. Hey, you," Kat called out again, this time in a far more ordinary tone, and pointed to the leader. "Get over here. Only you, leave your buddies there."

Once again, the leader (she didn't even know his name; she kept referring to him mentally as 'leader') reluctantly walked towards the console Kat was standing at.

"Tell your men to stand down and release the hostages," she ordered. "And no funny business. The pistol I'm holding has seven variable power ratings, from high-end shock to outright vaporisation. And right now, one shot from it will leave a hole in your chest large enough to put your head through."

He nodded fearfully, and tapped the button. Under Kat's watchful gaze (after all, her gaze couldn't be hawk-like: she was part feline), he tapped the button which turned on the PA systems and cleared his throat.

"Ahem," he started. "All Castillo Frontier guys; we're done for, boys and girls. If there are any girls. Lay down your weapons and meet in the mess hall and let the hostages go."

Kat nodded. "Now get back into the corner," she ordered.

"…glad I don't have you as a wife," he mumbled as he walked away.

"I heard that."

* * *

Throughout the ship, the Castillo Frontier hijackers stared at the intercom in despair. They were so close! But, like any good soldier, they listened to their leader…despite the fact that they could quite conceivably retake control of the entire ship again. They had the numbers and the weaponry/firepower to do so (until Kat or Bridge started to retake control again at least), but lacked the little fundamental skill called initiative. And as such, they listened to their leader unquestioningly.

In the mess hall of the ship, in which the massive brawl was still in progress, with knives, forks and fists and whatnot (including the decidedly deadly trays) flying around in all discernable directions (and even some undiscernible ones as well) around the room. Bridge was in the middle of it all, trying to reach the door but failing. Every time he got closer, a stray body would somehow fall into his way and collapse on him, sending him backwards.

After being knocked back again for what felt like the hundredth time, Bridge's patience and temper was starting to become frayed. He was known to virtually everyone who knew him as a calm person, never growing angry at anyone, even his enemies, but given the situation, that reputation was soon to be potentially tarnished.

"Get out of the way!" he bellowed, just before another person was thrown into him.

In front, a particularly large man was in the middle of a group of thugs. The person slugged one of the thugs in the jaw with enough force to once again, send a flying body into Bridge, who had just gotten up again.

Before anything else surprising could happen (not that there was much), the intercom sounded, and a man's voice blared through. "Ahem, all Castillo Frontier guys; we're done for, boys and girls. If there are any girls. Lay down your weapons and meet in the mess hall and let the hostages go."

There was a pause and quiet for a whole minute as everyone, attacker or not, tried to process the information that had just been said. Weapons; rifles or knives or any other similar kitchenware which could have been used for a weapon, clattered to the floor.

Then there was immediate and wholesome cheering from the civilians, while the Castillo hijackers fell to their knees and sobbed. And there was much rejoicing as well, as Bridge finally could make his way through the now relatively clear mess hall towards the exit. He had just reached the door when they flew open, and a tidal wave of other surrendering Castillo hijackers knocked him down _again_ for the umpteenth time.

"This just _isn't_ my day," Bridge sighed from his position on the floor.

* * *

**Time: 1542 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Bridge on Shuttle Star Traveller, en route to Soletu Zeta**

The bridge was a now quiet place like it had been before. Noise was rare on such a routine route towards another planet, and now that the uniqueness of the whole 'hijackers-have-come-aboard-to-take-everyone-hostage' fiasco had been finished, the bridge had once again reverted to a quiet place of quietly tapping keys.

The captain glanced around again, as if to make absolutely sure that the hijackers were all gone. Ever since he had been hijacked, he was now paranoid about future attacks. And now, without the Chimera agent around, the total amount of security on the bridge amounted to what they could do (which was admittedly very little apart from cursing the hijackers). She could have at least stayed a bit longer until they were actually in the system, but instead, the second the hijackers had left, she had gone as well.

With a grizzled sigh that suggested that they were balancing on a precarious thin line between freedom and destruction, he turned back to the view screen. They were fast approaching the territory of the Soletu Armed Forces, which also housed a large navy as well. A distress signal had been sent out long ago when the ship had been boarded, but due to the long distance and unreliability of the communication buoys that acted as the signal strengtheners, receivers and transmitters (ironically, the very reason for its unreliability was because of the sheer amount of technology crammed into it), the Soletu Navy had only received the distress signal several minutes ago and apparently, two of their frigates were approaching at their maximum speed.

The doors to the bridge quietly slid open again, and everyone in the room suddenly cringed, before hesitantly turning to see their new visitor, praying to whoever they believed in that it wasn't more hijackers. Instead, Bridge stood at the door.

"Hi," he said, waving and producing an S.P.D. badge seemingly out of nowhere. "Name's Bridge Carson, I'm with S.P.D."

"Nice to have you aboard. Where were you when they were hijacking the ship?" Captain Bellanci asked.

"Oh, I was in the mess hall, fighting them off until they took everyone hostage. We were in the process of rebellion when everyone heard that announcement and stopped fighting," Bridge recalled. "I was headed here before, but I kept on being knocked over by someone."

"That is very…interesting," the captain said, nodding his head slightly.

"Depends on which way you look at it. Hey, what's that?" Bridge asked, pointing at the sensor screen, which showed a pair of large blips moving in.

"Sensors, what's being picked up?" Captain Bellanci asked.

It took a moment for the sensors officer to respond as he frantically tapped keys with his long, scaly fingers.

"It's the Soletu Navy, captain," he responded. "The frigates _Invincible_ and _Indestructible_."

"Shuttle _Star Traveller_, this is the Soletu Navy. We have you in our sights, and our weapons are at maximum charge. If you good-for-nothing hijackers are listening, then prepare to say hello to our laser cannons!"

Bridge summed the current feeling in the bridge perfectly in two words: "Oh shit."


	8. All In A Day's Work

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: Woohoo, things have finally gone planetside and we have left space! As always, there is a quote to give you a foreshadowing of the things ahead in the chapter. Oh, and just so you know, I was (again) listening to Hell March when writing this chapter. I always listen to it. Best game track ever. Full stop. Did I mention I love Hell March? Many, many, many thanks to my beta reader, Blueberry Blaster. She hit her head against a wall, was sent to the doctors and still agreed to beta. Drop a line to say 'thanks' to her in your review!

And did I mention one thing? Review! Sorry if the later parts aren't as good as the first, or are a bit rushed. Hope it's still enjoyable, and see ya sometime!

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

_Strategy? Son, let me tell you something. When you're charging up a hill against an entrenched guerrilla army, you don't need strategy…much. What you absolutely _do_ need is power. That is to say, _fire_power. There's no need for 'Charlie Company, draw their fire while Tango Company, go around the back and flank them'. It takes firepower, and in order to win, you need _more_ firepower than your opponent. And lunch. No man or woman, super secret agent or not, can do battle without lunch._

_Captain Hoise,__ 'A' Company, 27__th__ Infantry Division, Soletu Armed Forces, prior to assaulting Castillo Frontier stronghold with Agent Carson of S.P.D. Intelligence_

* * *

**Time: 1549 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Bridge of shuttle _Star Traveller,_ holding position**

The captain quickly tapped the communications button to the pair of frigates.

"This is Captain Bellanci of the _Star Traveller_, hold your fire, I repeat, hold your fire! The hijackers have been removed and civilians are at stake!"

There was an uncomfortable pause from the speaker on the other end. Distracted and quick whispers were heard, but not understood as the speaker (probably) entered (most likely) heated debates against the trust-worthiness of the captain (who they weren't sure if he was a hijacker or not).

"Frigates _Invincible_ and _Indestructible_, please confirm," the captain said, sweat quite clearly starting to run down his face. He did his best not to stare at the scanner's readings, which showed a considerable amount of power being collected at the bows of the two frigates, an obvious sign that the laser cannons were already prepped for firing.

"Will _somebody_ get a damned scanner up here!" a voice hotly hissed through the communications only just audible, which was followed by quick and quiet thumping of boots—combat or deck, not that it mattered much—as people (probably) hurried about.

"Uh, standby and await…orders, yeah," the voice said before the line closed.

More heated whisperings sounded through the line, and the fact that the laser cannons hadn't experienced a drop in energy levels yet caused more than a few beads of sweat to run down more than a few faces (even alien ones).

"Who am I speaking to?" the voice again sounded, this time with a great deal more confidence.

"Captain Bellanci. The hijackers have been stopped and contained, and we are in full control of the ship."

"_You mean that we don't get to blow something up?" _a surprisingly childish voice whined over the line.

"_Shut up!_ Captain Bellanci…Captain Bellanci…" the voice mumbled. "_Somebody get a profile of this guy_!" it whispered. "Nope, haven't heard about you."

"No surprise: I'm not a pilot of a big ship. I just pilot this freighter."

"_Where's the damned profile_? Don't move your vessel a centimetre, or we'll be forced to blow you to a million pieces! _And if you guys don't get that profile to me in the next ten seconds, _somebody's_ going out the airlock!_" There was a shuffling sound, and the distinctive tune of a small datapad starting Microsoft™ Windows 2027 as it loaded something. "_About damned time!_ Uh, wait; was it Captain Bellanci of the _Star Traveller_, or Commander Bellanci of the _Fool's Gold_?"

"_Star Traveller_."

"_Where's my damned vocal scanner?!_ Uh, we'll have to confirm your identity. What was the previous ship you piloted?"

"I've been piloting this ship my whole career," the captain replied, as the others (including Bridge) stared at him.

"People and their goddamned luck! We'll have to continue asking questions. What service rank did you skip? _If somebody doesn't get me that scanner, I'm gonna be using them as Blargian bait_!"

Bridge sighed, before walking over to the communications panel.

"This is Agent Carson, S.P.D. Intelligence. All hostile hijackers, which is pretty much all of them, I might add, are neutralised and the ship is secure," he said.

"…how do we know it is you?" the voice suspiciously asked.

"Why not use the video link?"

A silence from the other end, before the person started to whisper again.

"_Alright, who was the asshole who didn't tell me about the video link?!" _

"_Sir, we had to power it down when you ordered maximum power to the forward laser cannons. I can activate the link; I just need to divert some power from the guns...-"_

"_Nonononono! You divert power from the guns, and I'm feeding your guts to my gulark!" _

"Do you want me to talk about the intricacies of properly buttering up a perfectly toasted piece of toast? 'Cos I assure you right now, I can do that and given the broad range of the topic, it will take a very long time to finish," Bridge said.

"_Oh crap, it is Agent Carson! _Uh, no thanks Agent. We're good. Sorry for the reception earlier, technical and personnel issues to deal with, heh."

"Oh good then. Do you mind powering down your weapons? It's making more than a few of us uneasy," Bridge cheerfully said.

"No problems. We'll escort you to Soletu Zeta and have some of the upper echelon meet you."

"Ah, okay, thank you," Bridge said, before the communication's line snapped off permanently, without any more heated debates. He turned to Captain Bellanci, who looked at him in amazement, as were the other members of the bridge crew. "What?"

"You…you can talk about toast for that long?" one of the members stuttered.

"Who can't?" Bridge asked. Blank, unbelieving eyes stared back at him from every station on the bridge. "Well, if you know what you're doing at least you can," he mumbled, turning around to leave the bridge. He had a person with cat-like ears to find.

But before he could leave the door, there was a wild round of cheering from the bridge crew.

"_WE'RE HERE_!" they screamed, seeing the face of the planet in the rapidly decreasing distance.

Bridged sighed as he heard that. There wouldn't be enough time to find his mysterious saviour, and he had a meeting with the leaders of the government. Finding his saviour would have to wait.

* * *

**Time: 1652 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Landing Pad 2, Zeta Auver, capital of Soletu Zeta.**

The shuttle, after what seemed like a heart stopping eternity, finally descended onto the landing pad. A group of heavily armed soldiers stood near the pad, even as the ramps opened and let loose a flood of very relieved passengers, some of whom swarmed the soldiers with hugs and kisses. A second team of black-clad, armoured and armed soldiers stormed the ramp, pushing aside those who were coming down.

Among those coming down was Kat, who did her best to stay inconspicuous. Not easy, considering that she was a six foot woman with cat-like ears. But in any case, she did manage to make her way down without too much trouble, and soon had disappeared within the port and into the bustling and busy streets of Zeta Auver.

Bridge on the other hand, was immediately intercepted by a pair of heavily armed soldiers.

"Agent Carson?"

He turned. "Yeah, that's me."

"Sir, come with us please. Some people want to talk to you."

"I don't suppose that they're normal average people?" he asked.

The soldiers shook their heads.

"Alright," Bridge sighed, defeated.

They marched away perfectly instep with each other. Bridge noted the way that their movements were perfectly in time with each other, how their rifles were held in the exact same way, and how they dressed virtually exactly the same. It was freaky.

But then again, Soletu Zeta was known for its powerful armies, and it pride was a very big part in a Soletuan ego. Everyone idolised their military, and they didn't disappoint, making it known virtually everywhere that their military was among the best. And the fact that as Bridge followed them, he saw innumerable posters depicting the military in all sorts of fancy poses and oversized '**VICTORY'** slapped all over it, confirmed it.

"How much longer?" Bridge asked.

"Nearly there. We're headed for the Command Centre," one of his guards/escorts replied.

"Who's in command?"

"Captain Hoise of 'A' Company," the other (or as Bridge presumed was the other one; they both spoke in the same monotone voice) answered. "'A' Company's in charge of keeping security in the city and fending off attackers."

"Is one company enough?"

"One company here consists of over a thousand men. It _will_ be enough."

"Oh, right. Because most other militaries out there usually have around ninety to a hundred and twenty as one company. But it differs right? I mean, we can't exactly have everything the same throughout the galaxy. Who would be willing to support such standardisation anyway? I mean, I would, because it would make things so much easier, but I suppose not many others would like to. Galactic identity and all, I suppose. But you would kind of think that by now, in this day and age, people would be more worried about other things other than galactic identity…"

"We're here," one of them snapped, interrupting Bridge's long winded ramble/rant.

In front of them loomed a large, majestic structure. Constructed out of a gleaming silver-blue metal, the entire structure was sparking clean, and rose high, similar to a castle. Large gun turrets lined the outer walls: a four-barrelled weapon that could easily reduce a tank to rubble within moments, and watchtowers stood high with snipers and rapid-fire laser turrets inside. Inside the wall sat flak cannons and heavy laser batteries, intended to shoot down all aircraft deemed hostile. There were plenty of guards, but they were overshadowed (both figuratively _and_ literally) by the other defences.

Passing through the automated security gate, the large door (also with a pair of guards standing outside) leading to the interior slowly opened, and allowed them access. The inside was similarly styled to the outside, being clean, shiny and well coloured, as well as having a cool lighting. Guards constantly paced around in pairs, holding laser rifles, utterly silent. The only noise came from multitudes of combat boots hitting the floor at a steady pace.

Bridge took some time to evaluate the Soletuans. Like many other alien races, they were humanoid. Like female Sphinxians, who resembled humans very strongly, Soletuans too resembled humans very strongly, and like Sphinxians, their ears were their best defining feature. They simply looked like elves, with their pointy ears and lacked other characteristics that differentiated female Sphinxians from humans even further.

"We're here," one of his guards again said, standing outside a large door.

"Thank you. Do I just go in?"

They nodded. Bridge rolled his eyes as he went to the door.

"So, where's the door handle?" he asked, approaching closer to the door, which automatically slid open upon detecting his presence. "Oh. Never mind."

He entered the not-too-luxurious office of probably the most powerful man in the city. An average looking Soletuan and another Soletuan, one with more stripes than the other, were standing (or in the higher ranked Soletuan's case, sitting) at the desk, discussing something.

The door opening seemed to cause them to look up, one with an expression of obvious disdain (the one standing), and the other looking a great deal more grateful (the person sitting).

"Ah, you must be the S.P.D. agent! Come in, I'm Captain Hoise of 'A' Company," the sitting Soletuan said, rising to greet Bridge. "This is my XO, Lt. Farsee."

"Nice to meet you," Bridge said, as the other one nodded.

"Come on, sit," Captain Hoise said, gesturing at the chair once he himself had sat back down and the door had closed.

"Thanks. My name's Bridge Carson, I'm an agent for S.P.D. Intelligence," Bridge introduced himself, sitting down.

"We never requested for S.P.D. intervention," the lieutenant said with a frown. "The situation here is perfectly normal."

"I never was sent to help out here. I'm sure you're very capable of defending the city…or planet from whatever that it is," Bridge said, trying to worm his way into the ego that most of the military officers and members had and to hopefully give a better impression.

The lieutenant huffed a little, but Bridge could see the slight changes in his stance and eyes as he took in the praise.

Captain Hoise cleared his throat. "Ahem. If you would be so kind Lt. Farsee, I would like to converse with Agent Carson alone for a while."

"Of course sir," the lieutenant said, saluting. He turned around and left, the door automatically opening and closing.

There was a moment's pause as the captain sorted around the various files on his desk.

"So what did you want to talk about?" Bridge asked, breaking the silence first.

"A lot of things," the captain sighed. "First of all, thanks a lot for retaking that shuttle for us: we really couldn't spare the manpower to retake it."

"Well," Bridge scratched his head. "It wasn't exactly me who retook the ship from the hijackers…"

"Then who did?" the captain asked, looking confused.

"I did something aboard, I'll say that much. But really, I have no idea. It's probably another secret agent," Bridge theorised. "Probably from Chimera."

"Alright, but thanks anyway. There's something I need to tell you, Agent Carson," Captain Hoise said, getting up and walking to the window.

"You can call me Bridge if you want," the S.P.D. agent offered.

"Thanks. You should know that we're in the middle of a heated war with the Castillo Frontier," the captain said. "Ask any military officer around, and they will say that we have the situation under control."

"And?"

"In truth, Agent Carson, we do not have the situation under control," the captain said grimly. "Most of them won't admit it, but we are on the wrong side of a dozen guns, a guerrilla army and perhaps even a bit of a conventional one as well. And the worst thing is that they are _well-trained_."

"What do you mean?" Bridge asked, also frowning.

"They're not simply rebels any more: we're fighting a guerrilla army who can strike out at us, and before we can gather our forces and retaliate, they disappear. We've won a few battles, but nowhere near enough for us to claim to be in control," the captain sighed.

"And here I thought all of you were proud about your military," Bridge nearly chuckled.

"Most of us are. I just happen to be more open-minded than others." The captain glanced at the time. "I need to take a scheduled inspection of a base nearby. Would you care for a tour?"

"That'll be awesome!" Bridge said, leaping out of his seat.

* * *

Two minutes later, a single shuttle, bound to planetary travel and restricted of the freedom that its space-capable cousins were capable of, left the landing pads of the HQ, blasting off in the direction of another military base, this time out in the country.

Then another two minutes later, a shrill sound denoted the presence of an artillery shell hurtling towards the buildings which the shuttle had left. The shell fell nearly vertically, and smashed into the tallest building, breaking through the roof in an earth-shattering display of sound, broken glass and more broken glass.

The shell continued down, smashing through reinforced floors like tissue, before finally running out of momentum and stopping at the basement of the building. Numerous guards and workers tried to get a glimpse of the shell, even poking their heads over the side of the holes it had created.

Two guards swept into the room, their rifles raised to their shoulders. They approached the shell, which wasn't doing much.

"It's a dud!" one shouted, to numerous whisperings of relief from the staff.

Then the shell started to beep rapidly. The guard's eyes widened.

"Oh hell."

The final beep sounded, and the screen on the shell displayed the inevitable 00:00 timer, followed by (ironically) a smiley face.

A massive explosion rocked the building, blowing out the supports, the guards, and turned the basement into a giant, impromptu frag grenade, sending metal fragments flying in all directions.

Outside, the entire building shook from the detonation. It crumbled in on itself, reducing the once tall and proud building within the military compound to little more than a pile of rubble and dusty air.

* * *

**Time: 1712 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Fort Cartbridge Zeta, Xenotan Desert, 15 km away from Auver Zeta**

"Nice…" Bridge said, as he followed Captain Hoise down the runway of the military base.

On either side of them, sleek gunships armed with missiles, lasers, rockets and even bigger lasers lined the smooth, reflective runway. He could hear the shouting of drills being conducted and overhead, more aircraft flew through the blue sky. The rumbling of a heavy tank battalion was felt through the material of the runway, as the tanks rumbled into the base, and onto the massive, oversized elevators that stored them deep beneath the surface.

"This is some base," Bridge whistled, noting the fact that the gunships and many of the other vehicles, especially the tanks that were located here, sported the Gruumm Armaments Inc. logo as well as their squadron identification patch and the symbol of the Soletu Armed Forces.

"It is one of our pride and joys," Captain Hoise replied, nodding to a squad of soldiers who saluted as they walked past.

Then the big thing came: the ground started to shake, nearly causing Bridge to lose his balance, as well as a few other people (both base personnel and soldiers).

"Whoa! What's that, earthquake?" he shouted.

"No. You'll see," the captain said, not at all fazed by the shaking ground.

Bridge's eyes fell on a gigantic walker making its way into the base, and had they not been attached or if they had been prosthetics, Bridge was quite sure that they would've fallen out.

A massive twenty metre tall spider-shaped walker with four gigantic legs that ended in sharp points moved again, and the ground shook in response. A cockpit sat atop of the small platform where all four legs joined, and that cockpit bristled with a pair of laser-chainguns and two missile pods. The mecha-arachnoid stepped with ground shaking steps to the elevator, which also shook as it walked, where upon it disappeared. Before totally disappearing into the ground, Bridge saw another Gruumm Armaments Inc. logo branded on it.

The captain chuckled. "Agent Carson, meet the _Deathwalker_: it's one of our few XS-91 Landstalker Spider Tanks."

Bridge nodded weakly, and let out a small 'eep' in response.

"Come Agent Carson. We've got a lot more of the base to see."

Moments before they reached the more suitably sized elevator for actual people and not oversized tanks and gigantic spider tanks and gunships, another shrill whining filled the air, just seconds before a small mortar round crashed into the parked gunships.

The explosions instantly sent one of the gunships into flames, as the ammo and fuel were set off. The gunship next to that one also exploded, as did the next one, and the next one, until a whole line of gunships were little more than burning wrecks. More mortar rounds streaked into the base, blowing craters in the smooth ground, the hangars and into everything that the rounds touched in general.

"_For the Frontier!"_ came a massive cry from the mass of militants who suddenly showed up at the base.

"Shit!" the captain swore, as he got up along with Bridge, the two of them having been thrown to the ground by the exploding gunships.

Soldiers in full uniform came up from the underground barracks, fully armed and armoured. The elevators that were meant for the vehicles which couldn't fit onto the one meant for people (and given how they were meant for people, it was no surprise that all the vehicles were forced to use the vehicle elevator) also rolled up, and armoured jeeps and normal-sized tanks roared out to meet the assaulting militia force.

"We have got to get moving!" Captain Hoise shouted, as Bridge sprinted behind a wrecked gunship. "What are you doing?!"

"You know the saying that lighting never strikes the same place twice?" Bridge shouted back, before a mortar bomb exploded nearby. "Wait…never mind."

The two opposing forces clashed head-on near the base's outskirts, the wall that would've kept the militia out blown to little more than rubble (thanks to a few blocks of high explosive). Lasers of all colours flew between soldiers and militia, the former shouting professional military talk, while the latter screamed all sorts of gibberish and filled the air with fanatical shouts of 'Death to oppressors!'

Lasers crisscrossed the area as the swarms of militants pushed back the defenders. But for every metre they gained, they were pushed back another metre by a resurgence of the soldiers, or they simply ran into too much resistance. A stalemate occurred, as tanks were struck by missiles and mortars before exploding, rendering armour support useless. But at the very least, they provided good cover.

Bridge and Captain Hoise soon found themselves fighting with the rest of the soldiers, having acquired rifles off wounded soldiers.

"Is this what everyone else calls controlled!?" Bridge shouted over the roar of laser fire and the explosions of shells. He fired another burst, forcing a group of militants to duck back behind the wall.

"It's the generals! They haven't been in the thick of it!" Captain Hoise shouted back, loading another power pack into his laser.

"Great! Soldiers-turned politicians! I love those guys!" Bridge shouted. He threw away his now-depleted rifle, and drew his S.P.D.-issued pistol.

The militants had taken the sheer ferocity of which the soldiers fought with to heart, and started to retreat. Instead of turning tails and running flat out like Bridge expected of most untrained militias, they retreated like professionals: covering each others backs, throwing grenades to delay them and whatnot. Pressing forward, the soldiers retook the walls of the base again (not that it was worth much: most of the northern wall was knocked down and reduced to rubble).

"They're coming again with armour support!" one soldier standing at the top of the wall shouted, before he was disintegrated by a laser cannon mounted on the very tanks he had just spotted.

"Dai-yum," Bridge whistled, as the tanks fired again, sending a group of soldiers flying in the air from the explosion.

"What do we do!?" another person shouted, as the tanks fired again.

"Hold the line!" Captain Hoise shouted. "Return fire! Return _FIRE_!"

Everyone started to fire again, this time at the number of tanks who were slowly advancing towards them across the flat desert-ish terrain, interspersed with small trees and plants. Once the tanks broke through the walls, there wasn't going to be much which could stop their inevitable rampage. Lasers were absorbed by the tank's armour, doing little other than scorching the paint.

Salvation came however, in the form of an earth-shaking step.

"Not this again," Bridge groaned, as the ground shook again.

The _Deathwalker_, in all its twenty-metre, gun-bristling and earth-shaking glory stepped out, and towards the incoming militia forces, who instantly rethought the attempt at attacking a twenty metre tall walking tank. The barrels of the tank began to spin, and started to spit bright bolts of energy at the retreating militia forces, chewing up tanks mainly through the sheer number of bolts striking them.

Cheers rose from the soldiers as the _Deathwalker_ stepped over them, temporarily blocking out the sun, and started to pursue, chainguns firing and missile pods launching missiles.

"Well, what do you think of it now?" Captain Hoise asked as he came up alongside Bridge.

"It's definitely impressive, but—..."

Before Bridge could finish, a massive explosion swallowed up the _Deathwalker_: All twenty metres of it. An equally massive cloud of blown up dirt, rocks and dust obscured the walker from view as everyone stared at the gigantic dust/rock/dirt cloud in shock.

When the cloud of dirt, rocks and dust had finally drifted back to the ground, the _Deathwalker_ still stood, immobile. Its armour was scored, battered and worst of all, no longer a bright sheen, and small chunks of metal were missing, but still it stood. The cockpit canopy situated at the 'head' of the spider tank then snapped up, and a number of ejection seats shot out of it. The _Deathwalker_ then sunk back to the ground, its four legs spreading out so it landed upright with another earth-shaking _crash_.

Silence filled the air.

"Well…that was rather…anti-climatic, don't you think?" Bridge asked a stunned Captain Hoise. "I was kind of expecting a giant explosion…"

Then another fireball exploded out of the _Deathwalker_ with a massive _ka-boooom_ (except significantly louder). The entire body was ripped to shreds and fragments as the dead walker exploded. The ground shook again with the force of the explosion, and then started a smaller series of mini-shakes when the larger fragments started to land.

"…Never mind," Bridge amended.

* * *

**Time: 1815 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Inside personal office of Captain Hoise, inside main headquarters compound of Fort Cartbridge**

The captain groaned as he held a piece of fabric soaked in an anti-bacterial, wound cleanser and relief liquid (aptly named MX-153 Medical Solution; Bridge would have just called it the 'Anti-Everything Wound-Related Solution) up to the cut on his forehead. He was reclining back in his cushioned chair, nursing the afore-mentioned wound. A pile of papers were sitting on the desk, just taunting him with the sheer amount of signing and reading he had to do.

He picked up one of the reports, labelled 'Extremely Urgent and Confidential' and read through it. He then tossed it onto the steadily growing pile of reports. "This isn't our day," he mumbled to Bridge, who was snooping around the room.

"Why not?"

"Our main headquarters in the capital was attacked, and whoever did it managed to level a building. Now we've got to replace several dozen gunships, tanks and even a XS-91 Spider Tank!"

"I assume those don't come cheap?" Bridge asked.

"Obviously not. We might as well buy a couple of MT-54 heavy assault tanks!"

"What are those?"

"Oh, we don't keep them around this base. Didn't think we needed any, with the _Deathwalker_ around and all," the captain said, removing the cloth.

"Hey, on that subject of replacement, why does every vehicle I see have the Gruumm Armaments Inc. logo?" Bridge asked, turning to face the captain, having flicked one of the bobble heads on the wall.

"We have a major defence contract with them," groaned the captain, sitting upright. "We get a small discount on mass buys, and they also construct them for us instead of simply designing the plans and having us produce them."

"Sounds like a good deal," Bridge shrugged.

"Kind of. Except that they're supposed to be the only contractor we buy from. And we _do_ have local manufacturing plants and firms," he said with a pointed look at Bridge. "You also never told me why you're here."

"I didn't?"

"No."

"Okay…can I explain it now?"

"It would be best, yes."

"Alrighty, where to begin?" Bridge wondered as he sat down in front of the captain. "I'm actually here for the leaders of the Castillo Frontier. They apparently have something that we need."

"What is it?" Captain Hoise asked.

"It's a data disc, and I think their leaders have it," Bridge said.

"I'll assume you can't tell me what's in the data disc, so I won't ask. But still, finding their leaders? A snowball has a better chance in hell than we do in finding their headquarters, let alone the leaders!" the captain laughed, before a knock sounded at the door. "Come in."

"Sir?" a timid looking officer asked as he stepped in. "There's something here for you. A report."

"I never was informed of _another_ report," the captain sighed. "Thanks anyway."

"No problem sir," the officer said, slinking away.

Bridge stayed quiet as the captain read the report, his face steadily changing from confusion to suspicion to a (faint) look of glee to finally its normal, 'neutral' expression.

"What was that about?" Bridge asked.

"We might have to rethink about the snowball having a better chance," the captain said, handing the report over to Bridge. "Because we have just found them."

"Can you trust this?"

Captain Hoise shrugged. "Considering that whoever sent this actually hacked through a dozen firewalls and security codes to have it sent directly to my inbox, we might as well. Besides, it's the only lead we've got."

"If you say so," Bridge said.

"Did you say that there was another agent aboard the shuttle you travelled on?" questioned Captain Hoise.

"I think so, but they definitely weren't S.P.D. Why?"

"Because I think that they sent this as well."

* * *

**Time: 0624 hours, galactic standard time, following day / Location: Briefing Room BR-04 within Fort Cartbridge**

"We cannot make a full frontal assault on this compound!"

"…lacks enough numbers! We're stretched as thinly as we are already!"

"Armour support is available, but it will take time to requisition the other supplies necessary…"

"Gentlemen! Enough!" Captain Hoise shouted, finally getting some silence within the room. "_Thank_ you."

The silence continued as they shuffled through reports. Bridge, burdened with no reports, simply waited, standing around the edges of the room.

"Now then," Captain Hoise, the highest ranking officer in the room, started. "Only yesterday, a message was sent through all our firewalls and security measures straight to my account. The message contained probably the most vital bit of information we have: the location of the Castillo Frontier headquarters _and_ their leaders."

"And we can trust this mysterious source?" one of the lower-ranked officers dubiously asked.

"Given that we presume it is from a Chimera agent, most likely."

"Chimera? If S.P.D. wasn't enough," the officer said with an obvious jab at Bridge, "we also have Chimera trying to stick their noses into our business as well?"

"Whoever they are, they haven't exactly butted into our business: no word from anyone that there's another agent around."

"That's because Chimera agents don't leave people behind to spread words about their existence," countered another person.

"Chimera and their agents abide by the galactic operating body," Bridge interrupted. "They don't go around killing anyone who's not part of their objective. Granted, they probably would knock them unconscious, but never kill."

"Okay, onto the matter of actually winning this war," Captain Hoise said. "If we can capture the Castillo Frontier's leaders, we have effectively cut their heads off: at best it will be field officers that we have to deal with, people who aren't especially good at anything beyond commanding troops. So we need to pull this operation off."

"How? We're not exactly brimming with spare soldiers: we've got every division active somewhere, and virtually all our reserves as well!"

"We can pitch in several armoured units," another officer said. "I can hand over a pair of MT-54's, though the loss of the _Deathwalker_ was quite crippling. But I wouldn't have used it in any case: it's too inconspicuous."

"Right," snorted a person. "Like being conspicuous is the most important thing to worry about when assaulting a headquarters."

"Do we have scans over the position and of the headquarters?"

"In fact, we do," Captain Hoise said. He tapped a button, and displayed an image of the headquarters on the screen over the far side of the room.

Everyone winced noticeably when they saw the various heavy emplacements that defended the structure, which was also at the top of a secluded hill to boot. Any attacker would have to charge up the hill, while avoiding the heavy defences before reaching the structure.

"Well…that sucks," Bridge commented.

"Indeed. I'm starting to think that we're dealing with more of a military than a terrorist organisation."

"Any ideas?"

A moment passed, then another, followed by another, which in turn was followed by two more. Finally, five moments later, someone spoke up.

"Can we distract the defenders away from the headquarters? Go after something else that has a high value to draw some away?"

The image zoomed out quite a bit, to show more of the surrounding terrain, before something else was circled.

"Here. That is the location of one of the arms manufacturing facilities that the Frontier has set up. It is far away enough from the headquarters to sufficiently keep any troops diverted away long enough for our assault."

"It could work…if we had more resources," another person said.

"We'll have to make due without the distractions then," Captain Hoise said. "This is too much of a good opportunity to pass up. Get whatever men we can ready, and have them assemble at Fort…" he glanced over at a conveniently placed map, "Hartsburg Zeta. We'll begin the attack in two day's time."

Everyone stood up and saluted, before filing out. Bridge remained behind.

"I'll go with them," he said. "I need to have a talk with those leaders."

"Very well Agent Carson. I wish you luck," Captain Hoise said. "A transport will be arranged to take you there, but it'll stop by Auver Zeta first for a day. I'll actually be there at Fort Hartsburg Zeta as well later."

They shook hands, before Bridge left.

* * *

**Time: 1957 hours, galactic standard time / Location: District of Auver Zeta**

Bridge sighed as he strolled along a street of Soletu Zeta's capital. The nightlife was bustling with activity, with discos and nightclubs open to tourists and the general public alike. The captain had arranged for a good quality room for him to stay overnight, as well as having one of the pilots around with him at nearly all times to avoid having him get lost in the sprawling city.

The said pilot was right now keeping up with Bridge, listening to his exploits and (over the top as well) tales.

Had they been paying a little more attention (and if they had consumed a little less alcohol, not that they had consumed much) then they might have noticed that on a balcony above them which belonged to a nightclub, stood Kat Manx, holding a fluted glass between her fingers. She leaned forward a bit, her ears picking out their conversation.

"…so you're too short handed to destroy the arms plant?"

"Yeah. I can testify to that: I've been running myself ragged transporting troops all over the planet. These Frontier guys can almost pop out of nowhere."

"They're a guerrilla army; what'd you expect?"

"Perhaps a little…something a little, more, umm, more…"

"Conventional?"

"Yeah, that's the word. Less of a hit-and run cowardly attacks and more macho gunfights."

"Aren't you a pilot? Shouldn't you be less worried about what the troops on the ground are doing, and more about what's the next thing that'll shoot your ship down? And besides, not everyone in the galaxy runs in that view."

Kat smirked. The S.P.D. agent had something right for once.

"Well then they _should_!"

Kat watched the two as they headed down the street, now almost out of her hearing range. However, she still managed to hear the incoherent voices as they continued to argue over the proper-ness of the Castillo Frontier's guerrilla ways of fighting, and the arguments of proper, straight-up wars with two massive armies squaring off against each other. The likes of that happening were virtually nil these days, with both Chimera and S.P.D. agents scattered throughout the galaxy. The very thought that S.P.D. or Chimera could crash down on them prevented many successful terrorist attempts, though it didn't discourage some.

"We should get back to the hotel," their fading voices said.

As they disappeared down the street, a contemplative look dawned on her face, as the club behind her with its ridiculously loud music became forgotten.

* * *

**Time: 0721 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Fort Hartsburg, 6.5 kilometres away from Castillo Frontier Headquarters/ Time until attack: 2 hours**

Bridge stared at the mass of assembled soldiers and their respective vehicles with a sense of something akin to awe. Two hundred soldiers with an assorted array vehicles ranging from plenty of lighter vehicles such as jeeps (except much more advanced ones) to super-heavy tanks did that to a person who wasn't used to seeing such sights. Bridge was more used to a small number of people attacking him without such armour support.

"Agent Carson," a voice said as the speaker came up to him. "Are you ready?"

Bridge did a double take at the sudden appearance of a fully armoured and armed Soletuan lieutenant before managing to compose himself.

"Yeah…as ready as I could be I guess," he answered.

"Good. We'll be leaving within the hour. It takes about an hour to get to the staging point."

Bridge frowned. "I was under the impression that this was the staging point."

"No it is not. This is where we simply gather our forces in preparation of the attack."

"Which is a staging ground."

"If you insist," the lieutenant sighed. "Do you believe that this will work?"

"Will what work? The attack or the capture?"

"Both."

"Hmmm," Bridge mused, thinking with a hand cupped under his chin and gazing up at the sky. "I would say…probably. Given the amount of soldiers you have here we should be able to capture them."

"And what about the attack?"

"Same thing. Of course, it'll be a bit easier if we had some of their defenders go away for a while, but that's life."

"Don't most of you humans and many other people say that life is unpredictable?"

"Yeah, well, I…don't know."

They resumed their stares of the gathering troops and vehicles. Just as the last vehicle was accounted for and the last of the equipment checks had been made, there was an ear-splitting roar.

Nearly everyone ducked down and covered their ears as the source of the roar came into view: a massive explosion was rising over the tops of a few mountains. It was a fireball of epic proportions, with red, yellow, orange and black all rolled into one cloud. The earth started to shake with the force as the roar slowly died away. The explosion was also gone, but a massive cloud of smoke started to rise, taking the explosion's place.

Bridge glanced over at the lieutenant as everyone started to get back up. "What was that?"

"I have no clue," the lieutenant shakily said.

"If I had to guess, I'd say that something was blown up," Bridge mused, staring at the cloud. "Wait, I'll add to it: something _really_ big was blown up. And explosive as well."

"No grand prizes for that guess. The question is what do we do now?"

The question was answered as Captain Hoise came up.

"So what happened?" Bridge asked.

"Satellite scans of the area show that the munitions plant has somehow and mysterious exploded," the captain explained.

"How?" Bridge blurted out.

The captain shrugged. "Beats me. Someone must have known about our plans…or we are incredibly lucky."

"The second one sounds better, but not as likely," Bridge said.

"Which makes the first more likely," the unnamed lieutenant said. "So what do we do?"

"Take it as a hell of a lucky gift, and proceed with the plan, a little later than normal. Got to give them time disperse first," the captain said.

"How much longer?"

"Oh, give or take a few more hours. Three at most."

"Yes sir."

* * *

**Time: 1056 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Staging ground, 1.5 kilometres away from Castillo Headquarters, known as 'Frontier Hill'**

"Alright boys, this is it. Get everything ready, because we will be in for one hell of a fight."

Bridge stared around at the fifteen or so soldiers whom he had been assigned to. Their job was to simply charge up the side path to the buildings while the rest of the force assaulted the main path, in hopes of letting them slip in first. Enough anti-air cannons had been placed to bring down a space-borne destroyer, to prevent anyone from slipping away by aircraft.

To that end, the most elite of soldiers were in this group. All of them were veterans of some war or some form of action, and were equipped with the best armour and weapons available.

"Come on, lets go!" one of them shouted.

The tank, a MT-54 heavy assault tank which had been assigned to them, rumbled into life, just as the hills exploded with artillery fire. The distinctive whistling of the shots filled the air, moments before crashing down all around them.

"_Let's go get the bastards_!" someone shouted, before a hearty cheer went up with the troops.

With conviction in their hearts and artillery shells exploding all around them, they charged straight up the hill behind the MT-54 heavy assault tank, ignorant of the lasers which missed them by centimetres.

Perhaps _charged_ was a bit of a creative overstatement.

Designed as a frontal assault vehicle, with nearly ten centimetres of carbonox-reinforced, titanium armour on its front alone, and sporting a pair of high-powered, armour-piercing laser cannons, the MT-54 'Mammoth' heavy assault tank weighed in at nearly 120 tonnes of armour and pure firepower. _Charging_ with it was quite out of the question.

Instead, the tank rolled along at its maximum speed: a slow, leisurely pace which seemed out of place given the fact that the defenders were throwing everything they had at the tank: lasers, artillery blasts, rockets, missiles and mortars. The tank took it all without breaking stride (or barely denting its armour) as the soldiers and Bridge took refuge behind what was basically a moving wall.

"Incoming!" someone hollered.

A missile streaked out from behind a small rise, many of which were dominant throughout the path they were taking. The white vapour trail denoted the explosive's presence, as it headed straight for the tank.

Everyone behind the tank, which was basically everyone, including Bridge, dove away. The missile exploded against the frontal armour of the tank…and the armour-piercing, high-explosive warhead, capable of reducing fully armoured tanks to scrap metal was reduced to little more than a (deadlier) fireworks show.

The tank rumbled on, ignorant of the missile which had just struck it. Everyone else quickly scrambled to their feet, and hurried back to the tank, occasionally leaning to the left or right to pop off a shot against whoever was visible.

"Is this normal?!" Bridge shouted over the roar of lasers and engine noise.

"All in a day's work!" shouted back one of the soldiers, as he fired a burst into a clump of leafy bushes.

"My day's work includes rescuing planets and recovering stolen things: not being a grunt!"

"New experience then!" the soldier shouted, before a laser whizzed by. "Shit!"

The tank's turret whined as it slowly turned to face the attackers. A massive twin explosion roared as the tank fired, blowing a large part of the defender's cover away and sending others running for their lives. The tank still continued to suffer through a massive amount of firepower, as virtually every gun that could be pointed at it was brought to bear and fired.

"Push through! Wipe everything that shoots at you out!" one of the soldiers shouted, even as the tank continued to move, shoot and soak up all the fire.

After a lengthy battle pushing uphill, and leaving a large part of the hill dotted with new landscapes, the team and the tank had arrived at the headquarters, which were starting to rain all sorts of weapons down on them.

The tank returned fire, and blasted the gun turrets straight off their mounts, sending the scrapped weapons high into the sky. The fact that they were blasted off the hill itself was enough to prove that they were indeed sent flying.

"I can't go any further," the tank driver said over their radios. "This big girl won't fit through there; I can give you support 'till you get inside. After that, you're on your own."

"Roger that. We've got the agent with us; we'll be fine. Thanks for the help."

"No problem. Holler if you need me." The tank then slowly turned around, and fired its main cannons again.

The remains of a light jeep slowly rolled and tumbled out from behind a small rise, smoke rising.

* * *

**Time: 1138 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Entrance to Castillo Frontier headquarters building**

"Breaching!"

The explosive placed on the door exploded, blowing the door's locking mechanism (not to mention the entire structural integrity as well) to smithereens and flying shrapnel.

A storm of laser fire filled the hole that had been made, as the Frontier's forces did what they could to stop the Soleutan forces from breaking and entering. Unfortunately, the lasers did little to stop them, as they causally chucked in a few grenades. The small _clinking_ noise of the grenades clattering to the floor was enough to scare them away, moments before the grenades exploded.

"Entering!"

The Soleutan elites and one secret agent gathered outside the now-ruined door and lobby charged straight into the midst of it, their own rifles ablaze with light. They fought against the entrenched and bitter defenders, who were hunkered down behind anything and everything that could potentially be used as cover. Desks and low walls became the most preferred, with both the attackers and the defenders using them. But with an obvious lack of large numbers of the said items, whatever was lying scattered around became favoured over standing in the open; items such as pot plants were quickly becoming the new favourite.

"Unload on 'em boys! Let them slimy oppressors and the S.P.D. dog have it!" the leader among the defenders shouted.

"Take cover!" the Soletuan sergeant hollered, moments before Bridge slipped and accidentally skidded down behind a low wall. "Give them everything we have got!"

Fourteen rifles, one light rapid-fire laser gun and a singular S.P.D. standard-issue laser pistol echoed against the varied firearms of the Castillo defenders. The soldier manning the light rapid-fire weapon stitched a series of neat craters against the wall, and bowled one of the defenders back with a few shots. The weapon rumbled and shook against his armoured shoulder as Bridge slowly crept his way through the lasers, placing the occasional shot at the opposition.

Finally, a trio of grenades flew through the air, and landed in the midst of the defenders. There were a few panicked shouts, before that particular side of the room exploded, ending the firefight.

"Let's go! Thanks for the assistance, agent," the sergeant said, getting up and starting down the corridor with the rest of his soldiers.

"No problem," Bridge said, before charging off with them.

They made their way through the building, making sure to check behind them for any sort of trouble. A few pockets of Castillo militia confronted them, but up against the best that the Soletuan Armed Forces and S.P.D. had to offer, they put up very little resistance.

"Stairs, or elevator?" one of the men asked as they confronted the very dilemma.

"Stairs," Bridge instantly replied. "Never liked elevators."

With a shrug, they started up the flights of stairs, ever so carefully checking above them for any potential ambushes. After an uneventful, long, winding and exhausting haul up the stairs, the group finally managed to reach the top.

Gasping, Bridge slumped against the wall, as several others also collapsed in exhaustion.

"Let's…take…a…nice…long…break…" Bridge gasped, puffing loudly with each breath. "Never…want…to…take…stairs again!"

"I thought you said you preferred stairs," one of the soldiers lying on the floor mumbled.

"Not (puff)…stairs (gasp)…that go on for this long!"

"We had better move if we want to catch them," the sergeant said, slapping a new power pack into his rifle. "On your feet."

With a reluctant sigh, the soldiers and one agent got up, and left the stairwell. Kicking the door in, they rushed out of the room…to the sights of a dozen men, two of whom were armed, the others wearing regal clothes and bearing looks of absolute shock standing in a very luxurious, carpeted room. Paintings adorned the walls, and the entire far wall was completely made up of glass, giving a very grand view of the chaos raging outside.

"Drop your weapons!" they all shouted, even as the two armed guards were taking in the sight of fifteen heavily armed and armoured (which was burnt in places and looking none-too-clean at the moment) soldiers and one other person entering the room.

The two threw their weapons down instantly.

"Hands up!" the sergeant barked, as he and Bridge walked closer.

All of the men instantly obeyed, throwing their hands straight up as high as they possibly could, and allowed Bridge to handcuff each and every single one of them (he had to borrow a few handcuffs from the other soldiers: he didn't know why soldiers carried handcuffs, but declined to ask). He then led and ordered all of them into a corner of the luxurious room, before walking back to the sergeant who was ordering his men around.

"What do we do about them?" Bridge quietly asked once he had gotten close enough.

"Are they the leaders?"

Bridge shrugged. "Haven't asked them yet."

"Don't, not yet. Wait until after," the sergeant advised. "We'd better get downstairs and to the rest of the force."

Bridge nodded, and walked back to the leaders. "Alright, get up. We're leaving."

They shakily stood up, and started to follow Bridge.

"All done?" the sergeant asked, as Bridge nodded again. "Alright. Cabido, you are on point. Check the stairs."

The soldier saluted, and then hurried into the room with the staircase. As he leaned over the edge, with his rifle raised, he heard shouting.

"We've got company!" he shouted back.

"Elevators are moving, two 'o clock!" someone else shouted.

True enough, the elevators were showing a lighted number that was steadily moving upwards. There were two elevators in fact, and both were lighted.

"Alright, you've heard them!" the sergeant barked. "Set up kill zones facing the elevators: five men on each. Everyone else, on the stairs!"

As soon as he had finished speaking, they burst into hurried and frenzied action, preparing for the inevitable firefight.

"Kuhry, Boelk, drag some of those furniture pieces over here. We will need them for this," the sergeant said. The two troopers hurried and with obvious effort, dragged the tables and large chairs to a proper position.

Bridge turned away from the scene, just as the elevators were reaching the final numbers. He went to the back of the room, which was just a glass wall with the occasional metal struts bracing it, and glanced out the massive window.

His eyes widened at the sight of a trio of people flying up towards their position, twin weapons held in their hands.

"We've got incoming!" he shouted, before the elevators stopped, and with a small _ding!_, released a torrent (in real terms, thirty four) militia soldiers, armed and angry.

At the same time, the trio of winged figures had reached the room, and with a wild cackling, two smashed through the glass wall, retracting their extendable glider wings to avoid getting caught on the frame. However, the third figure didn't quite accomplish what the first two managed, and instead, rebounded off the metal struts and fell back to ground. The two instantly unloaded their twin laser pistols at Bridge.

Hurling himself to the ground, the S.P.D. agent was dimly aware of the fighting going on behind as the soldiers fought off the assault waves coming out of the elevators and stairs. His own pistol crackled to life, and he blasted one of the figures straight out the window.

The other jumped to the side, and managed to catch Bridge with a kick that knocked him down, and prepared him for an excellent shot from the hang-glider person. But his reflexes again saved him as he rolled to the side, as lasers tore into the floor. Lashing out with both legs, he kicked the person straight in the chest, and pushed him to the very edge of the now-open wall. However, the person just managed to balance right before falling, and grinned under his mask as he trained his pistol on Bridge's shocked form.

Unfortunately for him, there was a small _crack_, and he stiffened. Bridge watched as the person plummeted out the window, a neat hole in his back.

Stories below, Kat Manx smirked as she threw down the sniper rifle which she had 'liberated' from the guard patrol pair. The shot had been straight on target, and she had to admit to herself, all self-modesty aside, that she was as good as any professional military sniper.

Drawing her laser pistol, the other agent, who had only just recently been visiting the Castillo arms plant, had sent the message to the Captain, hurried to the building. Already she could hear the noises of the Soletuan convoy rolling up the hill towards the headquarters. But then again, with a pair of Mammoth heavy assault tanks, a dozen other vehicles and countless soldiers, they made so much noise that a dead man (or woman) beneath the ground could hear them.

* * *

**Time: 1205 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Top penthouse of Castillo Frontier leaders**

"Alright, let's get to the ground," the sergeant ordered, once he had helped Bridge off the floor and trussed up the remaining militia who had surrendered instead of fighting to the unhappy end. "Everyone into the elevator!"

With the elevator capable of holding seventeen people each, the sergeant and Bridge quickly realised that they would have to split themselves into two different elevators.

The sergeant sighed. "Alright, Agent Carson, would you mind taking two of my men and these guys here into that elevator?"

"Not at all," Bridge cheerfully replied, despite having faced down death moments before. "Come on, in you go."

They hopped into the elevators, and after one final check, tapped the button. The elevators dropped like rocks, as did Bridge's stomach.

"Is it supposed to go this fast?!" Bridge shouted over the roar.

"I do not know! Let's just hope it stops in time!" one of the other soldiers shouted back.

Forty stomach-churning seconds later, the elevators had made a safe, slowing descent to the ground floor. There was a small _ding_, a pleasant voice bided them a good day, and they all stumbled out. Even the most war-hardened of the soldiers looked ill, and one even threw up. Bridge just clung to the floor.

"Come on…" the sergeant shakily said, as they and their captives in tow headed off to the lobby to meet the rest of the Soletuan forces.

However, instead, the sight of four dozen armed and angrier militia troops filling the lobby greeted them.

"Oh crap," Bridge said.

"No one shoot," the sergeant whispered, raising his rifle to his shoulder, a movement mimicked by the others and everyone else.

"Hand us over, and we promise you a quick death," one of their captives said smugly.

"No way in hell bozo," some soldier snapped.

The tense Mexican standoff continued, as neither side was willingly to speak or to pull their triggers.

"Any ideas?" Bridge whispered.

"I…do not…know," the sergeant said through gritted teeth.

"Can anybody else hear that rumbling?" one of the soldiers whispered.

"What? That floor-shaking one?" Bridge asked.

Sure enough, the ground had started to shake (again). A heavy rumbling noise filled the air, as the ground started to shake with ever increasing intensity.

"What is causing that?"

The question was answered when one of the walls of the lobby exploded inwards in a shower of bricks, ceramic, plaster and paint. The front treads and twin cannons of an MT-54 Mammoth heavy assault tank protruded through the hole, the twin cannons charged and crackling with energy.

"Drop your weapons! Everybody!" a speaker from the tank sounded.

Instantly, every single gun in the room dropped to their floor simultaneously. Including the soldiers and Bridge's.

"_Move that tank!"_ someone from behind the massive vehicle shouted. "_We need to get through!"_

"Hold your damned horses! This tank does not turn on a damned dime!"

The tank rumbled as it slowly reversed back, and the second it did that, every single person in the room dove for their dropped guns again.

The turret whipped back quickly. "Drop the guns!"

Again, every weapon fell to the floor.

Before long, the tank had almost reversed fully out of the hole, before a sudden rumbling sound came, and a portion of the wall collapsed on the tank, burying it in rubble. Swearing issued from the tank's speakers.

"_Move that tank!"_

"Then get off your lazy asses and _pull_!"

More grumbling, as the tank was slowly and painfully pulled out of the collapsed portion of the wall. As soon as it was out of the way, soldiers flooded in the room, and took in the sight.

Four dozen militia units with their weapons in front of them and their hands up, and fifteen fellow Soletu Armed Forces soldiers and one S.P.D. agent also with their hands up and weapons on the ground, with twelve handcuffed people behind them.

Not a sight that a person saw everyday, Kat admitted to herself as she hid nearby.


	9. MaxStar Casino

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: Thanks to all the people who reviewed last chapter! You guys are great as usual! After all that shooting last chapter, why not cool down with some kung-fu? This story will alternate quite a lot from gun fights, to kung-fu, to some more peaceful, reflective moments, to having a conspiracy within somewhere down the line, to a little romance, and (hopefully) plenty of humour sprinkled about very generously. Now let's hope I can achieve all that, alright? I hear everyone nodding? Good! Then it's decided. And I think I gave too much away with all that…then again, how many people actually read these? Now, after all that action, how about we return to our good old friends back at S.P.D. and Chimera? Compared to last chapter's action packed-ness, this chapter will be comparatively calmer. And again, it feels a bit rushed to me, but maybe you feel differently?

And one more thing: a recurring theme has been broken! Can you find it? I'll give you a hint (two, actually): it has something to do with Alternative Information, and it has to do with who comes in first. Good luck! ) Free electronic cookie or the next chapter's quote to the person who can find it! And if you say which one you want in your review! Laters, and review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

"_Ah, MaxStar Casino…home to the lucky few, the unlucky __many, more riches than a person can count in a lifetime, and many, many drunken politician assholes who try to seduce me." _

_Chimera Agent Katherine 'Kat' Manx, commenting on MaxStar Casino ten years after EyeNet Incident _

* * *

**Time: 1207 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Lobby of Castillo Frontier Headquarters**

Silence filled the dust-choked air as everyone stared everyone down. The militia, caught in the middle, were the worst off, as the fact that allies were staring them straight in the face finally caught up with their minds.

"Agent Carson, I am glad to see that you have made it," Captain Hoise said as he walked up, hand extended.

Bridge reached out, and shook the captain's gloved hand. The captain patted him on the back a few times, before conversing with the sergeant. The rest of the militia were soon placed under arrest, and shoved into jeeps or APCs. A soldier was about to grab the twelve Bridge and the others had captured from the top of the tower, when Bridge stopped him.

"They stay for now," he said. "Thanks."

The soldier, confused slightly, nevertheless listened to Bridge and backed off. Word travelled fast, including the S.P.D. agent's ability to single-handedly kung-fu his way out of a bar brawl. None of the enlisted men wanted to mess with the man afterwards, for the fear that Bridge would come and kung-fu them into the next century. But the officers were generally the sceptics, not believing Bridge's outlandish tales until they had actually witnessed the said capabilities themselves. Then again, Bridge wasn't really about pleasing other people: he was here to do his job, not to elaborate on rumours. Besides, he had more things to worry about: there was a constant nagging at the back of his mind about his saviour once more.

Finally, Captain Hoise had finished speaking to the tired sergeant, and made his way back to a contemplative Bridge.

"Agent Carson, if there is something you need to get from the men you just captured, you had better do it quickly," the captain said, snapping Bridge out of his contemplative mood.

"Sorry? Say again please?"

The captain sighed. "You had better be quick when you are getting what you need from the captives. We need to take them away for something else as well," he repeated.

"I'll try to be quick: how fast I can get this done depends on how much they want to cooperate," Bridge answered.

"Well, in that case, you better get working: we need them back into our territory as soon as possible, which gives you…" Captain Hoise glanced at the digital clock within his helmet display. "Ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?! That's just barely enough time!" Bridge said.

"Sorry, but that is all the time we can spare." The captain walked away, back to the milling troops with an apologetic shrug to Bridge, who sighed in disappointment.

"Alright, then, let's get to work," Bridge mumbled, slightly mocking the captain's words.

He walked to the heavily guarded leaders, who were all grouped up with a pair of soldiers standing over them as guards, who were currently herding them into the room.

"Um," Bridge began as he approached the guards. "Would you mind if I talked to these fine gentlemen," he paused as he realised that being polite to the enemy wouldn't make him particularly popular with the soldiers for the last few hours he would stay here. "I mean…dirty scumbags for a minute alone?"

The guards stared at him, even as Kat slipped in through the broken and collapsed wall. She had to hear what the S.P.D. agent was doing and what the leaders had to reveal.

"I…guess so, agent," one of the guards said, confused. They walked away, leaving Bridge to talk to the leaders, and Kat hidden away to listen in.

"Alright, are you the leaders? Make it snappy: I've got an appointment with my commander within the next half hour, and he doesn't like it when I report in late," Bridge said, before pausing again. "Come to think of it…he doesn't like it when I report in early either. He actually hates it if we report in at any time other than the time specified."

"Yes we are the leaders…and no, we are not," one of the people said.

"How does that work? You're leader and not one at the same time?"

"Yes."

"Ooh, does that mean that you're like the de facto leader, but not really the leader, but like the representatives of the leader? Or are you just leaders, but only leaders of a part of the little terrorist group, like only the political leaders but not the leaders of the army or militia or whatever you have as your army…I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

They nodded as Kat nearly fell over from shock. How could someone like this become a secret agent? He talked far too much to be a proper agent. _Then again_, she thought, _how could someone like Morgana become an agent as well?_ She was too violent for an agent: often unnecessarily slaughtering combat/security robots that were ever so popular these days instead of simply attempting to achieve the objectives with as much discretion as possible. Throwing all the thoughts that weren't mission-related out of her mind, Kat tried to concentrate on what the leaders were saying instead.

"Okay," Bridge said, starting to feel more than a little frustrated. "Let's try this again: are you the true leaders of this group? Is there anyone higher than you on the hierarchal ladder?"

"One person," one of them answered. "He is the true leader of the Castillo Frontier, which you have so effectively decapitated today with our capture and his departure."

"Ahah!" Bridge triumphantly declared. "So there _is_ someone above you lot!"

"We never denied there was one."

"Now, if you're really nice and tell me who he is in the next ten seconds, I might just let you go," Bridge said.

The captives paused for a moment as they deliberated over Bridge's offer. They either remained true to their leader and therefore be incarcerated for the better portion of their lives, or they told the agent (and the other one hidden nearby, but they didn't know that) where their leader was and went free.

"We will tell you who he is," they finally said.

"Great! Let me get a pen first and I'll write his name down…" Bridge scrabbled around his vest and clothes to find a pen and a piece of paper, but after a quick search, had found nearly everything except the items he was looking for. "Ah, damn it. Oh well, just tell me his name."

Kat nearly held her breath. Finally, things were looking up a little. The only thing that didn't look appealing now was the fact that she had to sneak through an entire army to get off the planet without being noticed.

"His name is…"

Every breath in the room was held as the sentence fell into the dusty air.

"…Valda Kintopp."

A rather lengthy and pregnant pause filled the room.

"…I was actually expecting something more…" Bridge looked up at the roof, thinking and raking his mind in desperation for that ever so elusive word that kept slipping out whenever he was about to reach it, "…sinister," he settled for.

"Perhaps it is, maybe not. Now that we have fulfilled our end of the bargain, it is time for you to fulfil yours."

"Not yet! I still have another question," Bridge said.

The leaders sighed. "What is it now that you want from us?"

"I have some information that a data disc was supplied to you and/or your leader. I need to know what happened to it, before I can let you go."

"A data disc?" one asked, confused.

"Actually, I did see him with it, but he must have took it with him when he left," another said.

"Now, if you are done asking questions, then it is time for you to fulfil your end of the bargain."

"Alright," Bridge sighed. "Up you get."

Whilst his back was turned, Kat took the opportunity to quickly slip out of the door. She had everything she needed, and now it was time to report back to the _Phoenix_, which she was already dreading by the second. She was only really looking forward to seeing Felix again (the thought of buying him a drink had slipped out of her mind again).

While Kat was making her stealthy escape/departure from the room, Bridge had finally hauled all twelve of the pseudo-leaders from the ground, and was opening the door, when a pair of soldiers rushed in and instantly grabbed the leaders.

"What is this?!" one demanded.

"Hey, I said _I_ was going to let you go, not them," Bridge answered. "Besides, it's not like you can really get away with terrorising a whole planet."

He left the room and the leaders, with the most valuable piece of information he had discovered in his whole journey here. Finally, the trip on the shuttle, to the miniature war on the planet was worth all the trouble he had endured. Now all he had to do was catch the next shuttle back to the nearest S.P.D. base, and from there, to S.P.D. Central HQ. He only hoped that the journey to Central HQ wouldn't be as eventful as the ride on the _Star Traveller_.

* * *

**Time: 1542 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Commander Cruger's office S.P.D. Central HQ, at unknown location**

"So Carson, I presume that you have good news to tell me?"

Commander Cruger's officer was still as neat and tidy as he remembered it (it had always been neat and tidy ever since he had first visited in any case). The Commander was (as always) sitting behind his desk, and once again, Sky was standing behind the commander, pouring over some reports from the recent losses of Outpost Gamma, Beta and Zeta.

"In a way," Bridge carefully stated.

"Go on."

"Where to begin, where to begin? Well, I did as you asked me to, and I did find the location of the Castillo Frontier," he began. "The ship that I took was also hijacked by the Frontier themselves, so really, I guess they found me first before I found them."

Sky frowned as he put down the report he had just been holding. "Was that the ship hijacking we heard about and received a distress call from?"

"I guess? Unless there was another hijacking happening around the same time?" Bridge hazarded.

"No, there weren't," Sky confirmed.

"Then it was mine," Bridge cheerfully answered.

"How did you successfully regain control of the ship?" asked Cruger.

"I didn't: someone else did."

Both Sky and Cruger simultaneously frowned.

"What do you mean?" Cruger asked carefully. Despite being Bridge's commanding officer there were still some places where he had to tread _very_ carefully.

"I was actually one of the hostages. It was quite an enlightening experience actually. I now know how they feel like when someone rescues them," Bridge said. "And I suppose it was pretty great to be able to sit around and like do nothing for a long while. I mean, I did inspire a rebellion, which was pretty cool to watch mind you, but someone else managed to distract the guards long enough for that to actually happen. Ooh I remember something: I had a brilliant idea while I was held hostage for a new simulator course!"

"Later, Carson," Cruger groaned. "Keep going, but please cut it down a bit: we're all a bit pressed for time here."

"Yes sir," Bridge responded, giving the old-fashioned salute with his index finger. "After the ship landed after we were threatened to be blown to a million pieces by a pair of Soletuan Navy frigates, I talked to one of their captains and gained a rather good insight into the Soletuan military ego."

"We're not here to talk about their egos, even though I do remember something about it," Cruger growled.

"And then we were attacked by the Frontier again, and this time, we managed to repel them, even though one of the Soletuan's spider tanks was destroyed. It made a mighty good explosion, mind you," Bridge added, almost as an afterthought. "And then we found their main headquarters, and then promptly attacked it. Then we captured their leaders and I got a nice, juicy titbit of information. But one thing did bother me though."

"What?"

"We had planned to attack one of their facilities, an arms manufacturing plant," Bridge recalled, frowning. "But we couldn't do it, as they didn't have enough manpower to do so. But a few hours before our attack, the facility exploded, and I had nothing to do with it, I swear!"

"Sounds like Chimera to me," Sky said, tapping a few buttons on his personal datapad. "Wait a moment…here."

"Who?"

"Wait, let me check…yep, she's their top agent."

"She?" Bridge said, surprised.

"Yeah. One Agent Katherine Manx," Sky said, turning the datapad around so both Bridge and Cruger could see it.

"No photo?"

"For security reasons," Cruger automatically replied. "So no one knows what she looks like."

"So you're saying that she may have been behind all of it?" Bridge asked.

"Quite possibly, but it's just as likely that we'll never know," Sky said. "There's so little information about her on the already-limited profile they have to share with us."

"Back to the point," Cruger interrupted. "Bridge, you were saying?"

"Ah yes, their leader! They told me his name was 'Valda Kintopp', and also, they think he has the data disc we're looking for as well!"

"Where is he?"

Bridge shrugged. "That was the one thing that they _didn't_ tell me."

"So we'll have to make due," Cruger sighed. "Alright Bridge, new assignment for you: find this Valda Kintopp, and recover that data disc, no matter what the cost. Except for the loss of your life or the spilling of S.P.D. secrets, but apart from that, do everything you need to do."

"Sure thing."

"Get some rest first and get a check up from Ms. Drew. You can leave tomorrow; no need to tire yourself out," Cruger said, already starting to scrounge around his desk for his bottle of aspirin. "Have either of you seen my aspirin?!"

* * *

**Time: 1752 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Waiting Room leading to Beutat's office, Chimera Mobile HQ _Phoenix_, location unknown**

Kat strolled into the waiting room, and was instantly greeted by the sights of a dozen other people also waiting for a meeting with Beutat. About half of them were dressed in the standard full combat uniform (completely black fatigues, armour, helmet, gloves and even boots) of a Black Ops soldier. The other half dozen or so was a mixture of scientists, who constantly researched better armour and weapons, medical officers who took care of the wounded and engineers and technicians who kept the massive ship running.

The second Kat entered, she received a hostile glare from three-quarters of the Black Ops soldiers, which she couldn't see, but could almost _feel_ it radiating from them. The others regarded her with a mix of fear, awe and curiosity. All agents were virtually an enigma within their own organisation.

Another effect of her entering was the immediate contacting of Beutat, who instantly let her in whilst leaving the others who had been there first still waiting.

Walking into the room she dreaded the most, Kat stood at attention while Beutat dismissed the person he had been talking to, who quickly left with the doors closing behind him.

"Ah Kat! It's been far too long since you were last in here! Sit down, sit, sit!"

"I'm quite fine, thank you sir." No way was she sitting down after what happened with the coffee.

"In any case, we've all missed you while you were gone…"

_No you haven't, _Kat thought._ You just missed looking at me._

"...but business is business, and so, it must be done!"

"Of course," Kat said. "I did find some information while I was gone as well."

"Really? What did you find?"

"The possible location of the data disc that S.P.D. apparently lost."

Beutat instantly perked up. "Where?"

"It's with the Castillo Frontier's true leader; a person called Valda Kintopp.

"Then you know what to do," Beutat said, with a sly grin.

Kat simply nodded.

"Let me organise something first, and then I can arrange something for you within the next few days…"

As Beutat drained away another cup of coffee, smacking his lips loudly before turning to the papers, Kat busied herself meandering around the very spacious room, glancing at the various photographs and newspaper articles. She noted with something akin to disgust that many of the photographs featured her while she was doing something: training, firearms practice, her sparring and then pinning Morgana to the ground…the list could've continued forever.

A quick glance back revealed that Beutat was still continuing to sneak glances at her.

_Lecherous bastard_, she thought to herself. It took all the willpower she could muster not to run over to his desk and deliver a fly kick to his face. But, as appealing as the thought was, she highly doubted that it would go down very well on her record.

Instead, another, far more devilish thought crossed her mind. It would almost kill her to do this, and there was no way that Felix would approve of it, but the thought of tormenting him with the very thing he desired was more than enough to balance it out.

For once actually glad she had to wear the skirt, Kat made very sure that she dropped her ID badge very audibly.

"Oops," she said, just loud enough for him to hear. "My bad."

Mustering up every bit of willpower she had, Kat made a show of slowly and deliberately bending over to pick up her 'accidentally' dropped badge. The quickest of glances revealed that she had in fact captivated him with her little 'show' and he was indeed staring at her, all paperwork forgotten.

And just like that, she stood up straight again, her badge clasped in her hand. "No offence sir, but I think I can find another means of transportation."

Without waiting to hear what he would say (he would be far too shocked with her performance to say anything anyway), she swept out of the room quickly, trying to contain her laughter.

* * *

**Time: 2342 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Medical Wing of S.P.D. Central HQ**

"Syd?" Bridge called out, looking for the ever-so-busy medical officer. "Are you here?"

"What do you want?" Syd grumbled from behind him, stepping out of her office with a yawn. "S-so-sorry. I'm just so tired," she apologised.

"It's alright. Cruger actually wants me to get a check up with you. He's not taking any chances with my health," Bridge explained as Syd yawned loudly.

"A-al-alright," she yawned (again). "Just come over here."

Syd led him past many sleeping patients to a spare bed.

"Tired? Busy day?" Bridge asked as he hopped onto the bed.

"What do you think Bridgey? It's always tiring and always busy," Syd said as she rubbed her eyes to stay awake. "How's Sky?"

"Hasn't he been to see you?"

"He's just as busy as me at times. I think the poor guy just collapsed in his bed the second he got there," Syd said as she pulled out several medical instruments. "Now hold still."

Bridge did as she ordered, stopping everything except breathing and even then, he was only taking small, short breaths.

"So what were you doing before?" Bridge asked as she continued her task.

"Sleeping in my office, actually," Syd admitted. "The medical histories and files were probably the last straw in causing me to fall asleep."

"When does someone relieve you?"

"In a few minutes, really. I'm really looking forward towards falling asleep in my bed: my desk isn't exactly the best place to fall asleep; far from it, really."

"I see."

A few minutes later, Syd had finally finished her check up of Bridge.

"Alright, you're all done Bridgey. Now go get some sleep: if anything, you deserve it more than any of us with your recent battle," Syd said.

"How did you know about that?"

"Sky told me," she giggled. "Now, off to bed mister!"

* * *

**Time: 2125 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Medical Division MW-52, aboard Chimera Mobile HQ _Phoenix_**

"You did what?!" Felix yelped.

Kat, standing in front of Felix with her arms folded across her chest, sighed. "See, I _knew_ that you were going to do that."

"And for a very good reason too!" the male Sphinxian snapped back. "I still can't believe that you actually did that!"

"You're not my older brother, sister, father or mother, Felix," Kat reminded him. "If anything, I'm your older sister by all rights! But obviously we're not, and we're remaining as ex-boyfriend/girlfriend."

"Like you tell me every time you do something completely out-of-character and very questionably sane!" Felix shot back.

Kat sighed again. "How was that out-of-character for me?"

"So many ways, that I cannot describe it right now."

"What do you mean?"

"Seriously Kat, you deliberately bent over for him? That's insane! You _know_ he has a serious infatuation with you, and if anything, this is going to prove that you have something in return for him!"

"Felix, calm down, and _shut up_. I'll tell you my reasons, when you are finally calm and can listen to reason instead of living in your own separate world where my reasons don't mean anything!"

"Fine. Enlighten me," Felix said, sitting down on a chair with his arms folded.

"I will," Kat answered, sitting down in front of him.

"Go on," Felix said.

"Like you said, he has a serious infatuation with me. I've seen him every time, and he looks at me every single time I walk into his office. Every single damned time. If it was anyone I knew, such as you, I wouldn't really mind, but it's him. You know as well as I do that he is a lecherous, scheming bastard."

"And not to mention, he's also our commanding officer at this time," Felix reminded her. "And I never did take advantage of you bending over."

"Still doesn't mean he can stare at me that way. If he likes me, he can say it to my face…so I can reject him and _hopefully_ get this stupid thing out of the way. And I really doubt that you wouldn't take advantage," Kat said with a grin.

"Hey, have you ever caught me staring at you? Then again, you never really did bend over in my presence."

"Sure you didn't. Thanks for hearing me out anyway."

"No problem. Now hold still and stay where you are Kat; you need a check up."

"A physical?" Kat groaned.

"Don't be a cub, Kat. You're supposed to be our greatest agent, but you falter at the signs of a physical? Oh my, what is the world coming to?"

"Shut up," Kat growled.

"Okay, now hold still and this won't take a minute."

Within minutes, true to Felix's words, Kat's physical had been completed in record time.

"I know you want to go somewhere, but right now, on my authority as the chief medical officer aboard this ship, I am forbidding you from even approaching the docking bays," Felix firmly said. "Get at least six hours sleep first, then you can fly to your heart's content."

"As the doctor orders," Kat sighed, knowing Felix's words were true. "See ya later Felix."

* * *

**Time: 0741 hours, galactic standard time, following day / Location: Newtech City, Earth**

Despite it only being seven 'o clock in the morning, Newtech City was already a buzz with activity. People, alien or humans worried about keeping fit went for jogs around the city's various locations, while business men and women convened for an early morning breakfast. Granted that on Earth it was a Saturday, many other people were simply sleeping, after a hard night's work, partying or otherwise.

Kat strolled down the street, feeling a lot better after several hours of uninterrupted sleep. The crisp, chilly morning air blew into her face, catching her hair and allowing it to fly loosely. Wearing her standard uniform, even without the armoured vest would have drawn more than a few stares, so as always, she had changed into something a little more…inconspicuous. In this case, a T-shirt and a blue skirt that put together somewhat resembled her normal uniform.

A few joggers ran by her, one actually turning to stare at her, and that one ended up crashing into a tree, much to his humiliation and the amusement of his friends. She shook her head in both amusement and slight guilt. No one could seem to stare at her without something happening to them.

"You alright?" she asked, heading over and stooping down to help him up.

"I'm…fine, thanks," the injured jogger said, staggering slightly.

"Watch those trees: they can come from anywhere," Kat said with a tone of amusement.

The jogger nodded, and staggered over to his waiting friends.

With that slight debacle ended, Kat proceeded to head over to Jack and Z's place, before anything else happened.

"Anyone home?" Kat asked as she stepped through the door, into a darkened and empty Alternative Information.

Her senses kicked into overdrive, and she started stepping a great deal more carefully around the place. Training and instinct took over, as she slowly approached the counter, one hand on the handle of her pistol.

"Who's there?" a groggy voice suddenly said.

Kat instantly whipped around…to see a tired and decidedly undressed Jack step down the stairs.

"Oh, it's you," Kat said, slowing her hammering heart and releasing her grip on the pistol.

"Kat? What're you doing here so early?"

"I could ask the same thing of you," she shot back.

"Upstairs is our apartment," Jack yawned. "And how did you get in?"

"Door was unlocked," Kat said with a smirk. "And I'm part cat."

"Makes sen…sense," Jack said, still rubbing his eyes. "Did you want something?"

"I'd want to know what you were doing upstairs that could be so tiring to someone who regularly sleeps at ten," Kat grinned.

Jack paled and was instantly awake. "I, uh, was doing, umm, nothing…"

"Sure," Kat teased. "Can I come up to check?"

"Um, nope! Z's sleeping!"

"I'm as quiet as a…cat," she replied. "I won't wake her up."

"Yeah right Kat," Jack answered. "Come on, tell me the real reason you're here."

"I suppose nothing gets by you. Well, if you're prepared to, I need some more information."

"Sure thing," Jack said, moving to the desk while still underdressed. "Nice skirt."

"Thanks."

"So what is it that you need?"

"Information about Valda Kintopp," she answered.

"Vintopp?" Jack frowned. "Isn't he the ringleader of the Castillo Frontier?"

"Which was pretty much destroyed a few days back, but yes."

"Well, if anything, I know that he is a _big_ gambler," Jack said, placing a big emphasis on 'big'.

"And?" asked Kat.

"His favourite gambling venue is the MaxStar Casino," Jack told her, turning on the computer. "I'd bet that you'd find him there five times out of seven if you checked every night."

Jack checked the computer, and did something.

"Is that all?" Kat asked.

"Yeah, sorry. I can tell you that Z doesn't know much about him though."

"Alright. Thanks and sorry for interrupting…whatever it was that you were doing," Kat said with a smirk. "Say 'hi' to her for me."

Before Jack could respond, Kat was already out the door.

"That girl," he sighed knowing fully well that Kat was old enough to be his grandmother.

* * *

**Time: 1023 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Newtech City, Earth**

Bridge Carson walked down the shining and now fully bustling streets of Newtech City.

Whereas Kat had walked through the streets while only the early birds and a limited number of other people were up, he was walking down them when everyone was fully awake and ready to tackle the day's problems. Cars blew past him on the roads, already threatening to jam the streets up _again_. After last time, Bridge had made a vow not to even go _near_ a motorised vehicle when there would be a potential jam.

Now he was reaping the benefits of his wise decision: he reached Alternative Information in half the time it would've took him had he taken a car instead. Granted, he had taken the tram (which was coincidentally _not_ obstructed by traffic jams) for a major part of the journey from the space port, but apart from that, all was well in Bridge-land. All he had to do now was to get the information he needed, get some toast for a snack, some lunch, and then he'd be off again, to S.P.D. Central HQ and then to wherever 'Valda Kintopp' was off at (he still couldn't get over how…un-sinister the name sounded). After that, whatever went, he'd go along with. And then after that, he'd grab more toast and hopefully a chance to take his long-overdue holiday. Being an agent often meant that he had accumulated a large number of days that he was entitled to.

He had the feeling that today was going to be a _very_ good day.

Soon he started to reach familiar territory; this was the same road he had walked down all the times he had taken visits to Jack and Z's place. He passed the bars, vendors, stalls, corporation offices and even a few seedier places before he reached the place he was looking for.

"Hi!" he greeted as he walked into Alternative Information.

Once again Z was at the front desk and talking to a customer, with others gathering around the room, waiting for their turn to talk to either Jack or Z, the former who was on the phone talking to someone with another person sitting in front of him.

Jack waved at him in greeting.

"Hi," Z said, looking away from her customer. "Did you need something Bridge?"

"Well, you look kinda busy. Mind if I talk to Jack?"

"Go ahead," Z waved him forward, before turning back to whoever she was talking to.

"Hey Bridge!" Jack said, putting the phone down and hanging up and turning to his client. "Sorry, can you wait a bit?"

The person nodded before Jack drew Bridge to a much more discreet location.

"So, what can I do for you?" Jack asked.

"Any information on a guy named Valda Kintopp?" Bridge asked. "And preferably his whereabouts too."

"Valda Kintopp, eh?" Jack said, scratching his chin. "From what I've heard, he's a nasty character."

"That's not really surprising, given what he does for a living," Bridge said.

"Yes, isn't it? Though his name is a bit on the weak side. You'd think someone of his reputation and standing would have a far better name with a bit more '_oomph'_ to it," Jack commented.

"That was what I was thinking," Bridge nodded. "He doesn't even have a threatening nickname, like 'Death Dealer' or something like that. Does he?"

"I, ah, don't think so," Jack confirmed. "But if there is one thing that I do know about him, it's that he is a regular at the MaxStar Casino."

"Does he go there frequently?"

"Very frequently. Almost on a daily basis," Jack said.

"Alright then, I'm off!" Bridge said. "Thanks for the time."

"Not a problem," Jack answered.

* * *

**Time: 2251 hours, galactic standard time / Location: MaxStar Space Casino, near Austrus III**

Austrus III was widely regarded as a tourist planet. Its convenient location and its breath-taking landscapes drew in tourists from around the galaxy by the millions. But perhaps its best known feature was its varied and large range of nightlife entertainment. And the very pinnacle of that was the luxurious MaxStar Casino that was only several thousand kilometres away from the planet.

Bridge flew his own, customised shuttle (it was akin to a very expensive sport car) through the advanced airlock shield that encompassed the casino and a fairly large 'bubble' of space around it, allowing the people to actually stand in space (they couldn't float, with the artificial gravity generators and all) before heading inside to the ever-so luxurious MaxStar Casino, which was also a very expensive five-star hotel (unsurprisingly). The parking lot itself held a large variety of other shuttles, from one-person ones like his to longer limousine-esque shuttles.

A large number of lighted glass walkways crisscrossed the parking lot, leading to either the Casino or another part of the lot. Bridge found a space a bit further away from the Casino and the preferred lots, and stopped his shuttle in the anti-gravity parking bay. The door opened, and he stepped out, smoothing his suit out. He would've worn sunglasses, but considering that they were in space, and the area was lighted, and the fact that the glasses he had to wear were his reading glasses made wearing them redundant.

But one thing caught his attention as he started for the entrance: a trio of voices.

"I tell you, we've lost control of Soletu Zeta!" someone hidden behind the large number of high-class vehicles hissed. "Why else would he take us along with him?"

"Oh, I don't know: maybe paranoia?"

"Over what? A third voice interjected.

"You tell me!"

"So, he's paranoid about something. Does it make sense to panic?"

"Yes! He takes his entire bodyguard and half the designated bodyguards of the others as well!"

"…okay, so that maybe a bit suspicious. I still can't get why we were stuck with guarding his stupid ship while everyone else gets to go inside the casino…"

"Hey, it's not like you have any money to blow anyway!"

Uproarious laughter dominated as Bridge crept close enough to peek over the edge of a parked shuttle.

"Shut up!"

As the person had requested, the laughter suddenly stopped with a loud _clang_! The one wearing a metallic helmet stood still for a shock second as everyone whipped around, trying to locate the direction of the noise. Finally, the afflicted person's eyes rolled up, before he collapsed in a pile on the floor.

Bridge stood behind him, his pistol raised.

"Hello mate. Don't move," he warned.

The other two stopped moving, staring down Bridge's pistol. After a moments glance at each other, they disregarded Bridge's warning and charged at him, fully intent on knocking Bridge out/down.

"It's always the hard way," Bridge sighed, before whipping around with a kick that caught one of them in the stomach.

The person was propelled back into the other charging person, bowling him over and sending both of them tumbling backwards onto the walkway. Bridge sprinted over, and knocked the one just starting to recover back down again.

"Stay down," he advised, grabbing his handcuffs and attaching both of the remaining guards to one of the many bars dotting the walkways.

Dusting his hands, Bridge then proceeded to head to the main casino complex.

"Good day sir," the insect-like porter greeted as Bridge approached the glass, golden frame of the revolving door. "Enjoy your stay."

"Hello and thanks," Bridge returned as he walked through the revolving doors.

He was instantly greeted with the sight of a very brightly lit room down the wide and short corridor in which he was standing in, with hundreds of people in their best clothes everywhere: playing the machines, talking, eating, drinking…doing everything possible. The noise was deafening, and Bridge could only stare in shock for a moment.

Then his S.P.D. social training took over, and he composed himself, making very sure to close his mouth and straighten up his suit once more. You could never be too careful or too neat. After all, first impressions made lasting impressions. And there were definitely people around here to make impressions on.

Once he was sure that he was fully composed, and looked the neatest he could, Bridge strolled down the corridor that led to the actual casino. A few short seconds of casual strolling and a couple of steps down a pair of steps later, and he was inside the casino area of the most famous casino in the galaxy.

"Welcome," a woman wearing a short red skirt with a white shirt (the standard 'uniform' of the waiters/waitresses/croupiers/attendants) said. "Do you need any help?"

"No thanks, I'm fine," Bridge answered. "Just looking around for a while."

The woman nodded, and bowed her head politely. "Enjoy your evening sir."

"I'm sure I will," Bridge answered, before the woman turned and headed off.

Looking around the various machines, he began to mingle with the other people, as per the instructions that the social etiquette classes had given him.

"_Always mingle! If you don't mingle you will stand out! If you stand out, you will be noticeable and different! And a noticeable agent is a dead agent!"_ the instructor had screamed virtually every lesson. In fact, the man had screamed it so many times that it was all but ingrained into Bridge's (and every single other agent who had been with Bridge in social etiquette/infiltration classes) mind.

Suffice to say, that social etiquette classes and infiltration classes were one and the same…and none of them were particularly enjoyable, Bridge had remembered.

Peering at a few card games going on, Bridge watched as people placed money chips on the table, watched people roll dice and play cards. There were all sorts of games to have been played, ranging from distinctly human ones he recognised, to alien games involving alien playing implements, to even human games that had been modified and 'spiced up' with alien rules/playing implements.

"Evening," Bridge greeted as he passed a pair; a rich and smug looking man with a woman attached to his arm. They both nodded in response.

Beyond the pair were the gaming machines, though the occasional tables were laid out. People sat at the machines, either staring with heart-stopping anticipation of the results they were hoping for and secretly dreading, or with dejected faces at the universal 'loser' noise the machines generated with three odd, un-matching symbols/pictures or with absolute thrill as the machines gave them the results they desperately craved and reaped the rewards. All in all, what Bridge saw was a typical for a casino, with very little out of place.

He mentally went through the checklist that he believed made up a normal casino. "Gamblers, check. Tables and machines, check. Winners and losers…"

A massively loud cheer came up from one of the tables in front of him as the winner leapt up onto the table, his fist pumped in the air. "_YES_!"

"…checkaroo. What's left?" Bridge wondered as he moved past the spectacle, moments before the person toppled to the floor with a yelp. "Oh yes, beautiful eye-catching women in very nice dresses…"

Then someone caught his eye. The woman was very easy on the eyes, with a glittery, dark blue dress that came to a rest before her knees. But what caused her to stand out was the pair of cat-like ears that perched atop her head and protruded out of her mane of dark hair. The cat-person looked his way, and bright green, emerald eyes met with his own for a brief second. Then the person looked away, and another person blocked his view.

"Damn…definite check," Bridge whistled, before the person finally got out of his way…to reveal that the person had disappeared. "Double damn."

With a sigh, Bridge started for that area. The cat-like person had evoked a sense of deja-vu; almost as if he had seen ears like that before…somewhere…he just couldn't remember where…

"Excuse me sir?"

"Huh? Wha?" Bridge stuttered as he spun around to see a group of three men behind him.

"Would you kindly come with us, Mr. Carson?"

"Ummm, sure? I guess so," Bridge said, scratching his head and following the strange, mysterious trio across the casino.

Not too far away, Kat Manx bit her lip as she watched the S.P.D. agent who she had locked eyes with minutes ago follow the strange men. Something didn't quite add up in her opinion: she had heard them, and from what she knew, those men had been hanging around the corner of the casino; they hadn't come in with the agent and there was no way that there were more S.P.D. agents hanging around.

Bottom line? Something very suspicious was up.

Conclusion? She had to follow them…discretely, of course.

And with that, Kat Manx slipped into the crowd once more, disappearing and following the suspicious people from a sizeable distance.

* * *

**Time: 2311 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Back rooms, MaxStar Space Casino, near Austrus III**

"Well, this isn't very hospitable," Bridge commented as the trio of men forced him into the room. Another pair stood guard, closing and locking the door behind them, sealing all of them from any sort of outside help. At least they didn't tie his hands to the chair, which in itself was a rather small relief.

"Well, well, if it isn't the infamous Bridge Carson," a sly voice began. "I was beginning to think that you wouldn't show."

"I'll show up alright…and who are you?"

"Oh my, excuse my poor manners!" the voice chuckled, as a person stepped into the light.

He wasn't a particularly tall person: as a matter of fact, Bridge thought he was actually kind of…short. He had a balding head and wore a purple suit with a black tie. There was nothing really imposing about the person who stood in front of him; only the fact that the guards on every side of him seemed to obey his every whim.

"My name is Valda Kintopp," he said. "I'm sure you know by now that I am indeed the ringleader of this little group here. If not…then perhaps you really aren't the super-famous agent everyone makes you out to be."

"Since when was I famous?"

"Your deeds are rather…infamous throughout the criminal underworlds," Valda said, starting to pace back and forth. "Shutting down numerous organisations and capturing their leaders are not easy tasks, yet there are always two rumours going on after each and every capture: one person, sometimes it's a male, sometimes female, but always alone, and levelling entire structures behind them."

"I don't level structures," Bridge said. "Well, maybe I do mark them, but technically, I didn't level it: it's the ship or whatever I may have used to partake in it."

"Either way, many of the organisations have been lost due to your meddling," Valda mused. "And I'm getting word that our entire operation on Soletu Zeta, where virtually all of our resources, men and equipment were based, has been a write-off. All of the evidence seems to point directly at you, Mr. Carson."

"How do you know my name?" Bridge asked.

Valda laughed. "You have much to learn: when you've got enough backing, you can learn everything that there is to learn!"

He continued to chuckle evilly.

"And now, imagine the praise and the rewards I would get for eliminating the most infamous Bridge Carson, the thorn in the underworld's side! And I think it's only fair…" he stopped and stooped to look Bridge in the eye. "…since you destroyed my entire life's work back on Soletu Zeta, don't you think?"

"…not really," Bridge said.

Valda Kintopp shrugged. "It won't matter any more: Soletu Zeta was just a small part of the plan," he said, before turning to leave. "It was nice knowing you Carson, but I think life will be better _without_ you."

With that statement, and another evil chuckle, Valda left the room, the two other Castillo guards closing the door and standing outside it, leaving Bridge and three others inside to his and their fates.

Bridge instantly spun into action before the other three sprang towards him. He leapt up, and managed to knock away the knife that was speeding towards his face. The attacker was forced back when Bridge's foot buried itself in his chest, as he jumped back to avoid a fist.

"This isn't nice!" Bridge shouted, as he leapt over the chair and rolled just as the knife pierced into the chair.

He rolled to the other side of the chair, kicking it straight towards the other attacker on the opposite side. The chair slammed into the person's stomach, doubling him over in a world of pain. Bridge then proceeded to vault over the doubled over form, in the process sending the said person into the floor.

He landed in front of the third and final person, instantly launching into a routine of kicks and punches that forced the person to go on the defensive, desperately trying to block the agent's fast attack combos.

* * *

Outside the close-quarters pandemonium, one of the guards looked at the other.

"Shouldn't we help them?" he asked his compatriot.

"I don't want to get smashed up by an S.P.D. agent," his comrade returned. "_You_ can go in if you want."

"Nah, I'm good."

They were silent, trying not to wince at the sounds of fighting inside, when Kat Manx appeared down the hall, unnoticed. Sneaking across the virtually barren hallway was the trademark and textbook definition of 'impossible', and as good as she was at sneaking around, there was no chance of her succeeding.

With that in mind, Kat straightened up, and sauntered down the hallway. The soft clicking of her heels against the floor was immediately noticeable, as the guards turned to see her walking towards them. They did their best to make standing against the wall on either side of a door natural as Kat stopped in front of them.

"Nice suit," she commented.

One was about to make some comment about Kat and the air of sensuality around her before she suddenly attacked.

She struck one across the neck, immediately rendering him unconscious, as his compatriot stared in shock, before he too fell unconscious, from a well-aimed blow to the head. With two unconscious bodies at her feet, Kat reached the locking mechanism, and started to tap the buttons on it, well aware of the sounds of fighting raging from within. A few moments later, and plenty of number combinations later, as well as a few hacks, the lock beeped, and signalled that it was open.

Not exactly wanting to be caught when she was supposed to be undercover and inconspicuous, Kat made a beeline for the end of the hall, stopping just short of the entrance to the casino area to tidy herself up and to smooth out any wrinkles on her dress (the same one she had worn to the Gruumm Armaments Inc. meeting). Looking the same as she had entered again, Kat stepped into the main area and headed for the bar.

She really needed a drink right now.

* * *

Bridge breathed loudly and slowly, trying to calm himself down after leaving the combat.

In the room where he had been ever so unwisely held as prisoner lay three unconscious bodies, one of which was draped over the chair. Straightening out the suit and tie, as well as smoothing over his hair, Bridge did his best to look very presentable as he went for the door.

_You idiot_, he thought to himself once he had reached it. _Who in their right mind wouldn't lock the door? _

With a resigned sigh, Bridge tried the handle anyway. To his surprise, the door actually opened.

"Lucky me," he commented, stepping out to see the two sleeping figures. "Oh sorry! Didn't see you."

Upon closer inspection, he discovered that the two were actually unconscious, with red marks indicating blows to their heads and neck.

"Oh."

With that, Bridge hastily headed for the bar area. That fight had left him really thirsty and in desperate (almost as desperate as Commander Cruger's desperation for his aspirin) need of a cool, refreshing and non-alcoholic drink.

* * *

**Time: 2326 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Bar area, MaxStar Space Casino, near Austrus III**

The soothing notes of a well-kept piano played floated lazily over the ears of the occupants of the bar area of the MaxStar Casino.

The bar area was kept separate from the noisiness of the gaming areas, with a clear, virtually sound-proof door keeping most of the noise out, allowing its occupants to drink a wide variety of drinks and eat a wide variety of good (if somewhat expensive) food to their heart's content without being disturbed by a monumental win…or loss.

A large bar stocked with all sorts of drinks sat at one end of the room, which wasn't as extravagantly lit as the gaming area. Inside were a few coloured lights, to add a sense of calmness to the room along with a multitude of standard lights. A counter sat at the other end, allowing people to order their food, with a mass of tables placed between the two bars.

"Thanks," Kat said as she accepted the small glass of quality Earth champagne. She had an affinity for the drink, though it was more of a guilty pleasure of sorts.

Seated on one of the stools at the drinks bar, Kat was taking some quality time to herself, having (temporarily at least) left behind the troubles and worries of having the burden of the entire galaxy's fate resting on her slender shoulders.

Naturally, once again, Morgana would've leapt at the opportunity to slander the hell out of her, stating things such as taking breaks and drinking alcoholic drinks when she was an agent. Kat could've argued that she was blending in with the environment (after all, how many people wandered around looking for people here?), but as hardly anybody paid any attention to Morgana's complaints, there really was no need for her to.

"Hey babe," a man slurred drunkenly as he flopped into the seat next to her. "How 'bout you and me go for some quality…"

"No. Get lost," Kat said without even turning around, before taking a sip from her glass.

She heard the man leave, muttering things under his breath.

_One down, ninety nine to go_, Kat thought to herself.

Less than a minute after the man had vacated the seat, she heard another person sit down.

"Just an ice water please," the man said.

That alone was enough to quirk Kat's curiosity as she turned to look at the newcomer who had ordered water.

Much to her surprise, she saw the S.P.D. agent sitting down, an interested look crossing his face as he glanced around the room, before his gaze settled on the Sphinxian next to him.

"Hi," he greeted.

"Hello," Kat responded, tilting her head in response.

"I'm Bridge…oh, thanks." The barman had interrupted their conversation, holding a glass of cold water as Bridge handed over a few notes in return. "Sorry, name's Bridge Carson," Bridge offered, holding out his (gloved) hand.

"I'm… you know what, just call me Renee," Kat lied, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"You too."

For a moment, a brief, somewhat relaxed silence floated between them, only dispersed by the chords coming from the piano, and Bridge starting conversation anew.

"Do you come here often?" he asked.

"Me? No, not really. Only sometimes," 'Renee' answered.

"It's a nice place," he commented.

"There must've been a reason for it to be called the greatest casino in the galaxy," Kat/'Renee' shrugged, taking another sip.

"Yeah, but I doubt it's because of the bar," Bridge said, eliciting a small laugh from Kat.

"Yes, that's true. Still doesn't stop one from enjoying it, does it?"

"Nope."

The two continued to make friendly conversation, as the time slowly wore on. Kat found herself enjoying the kind of conversation with complete strangers that she rarely, if ever, had, despite having to watch what she was saying: one slip up, and her false name would be out the window faster than the air on a breached ship while Bridge too enjoyed making new friends. In his reasoning, the galaxy was a much better place when one had friends everywhere. Still, he couldn't shake off the feeling that he knew this Renee from somewhere, and finally he decided to ask her.

"Have we met before?" Bridge asked.

"I…don't think so," Kat said carefully.

"You just look a little similar to someone I saw once somewhere."

"I've got a few sisters around. Even close friends keep confusing us," Kat said with a laugh.

"Oh, like a twin?"

"Almost. We look very similar."

"I see," Bridge said, before he suddenly saw Valda Kintopp at one of the gaming tables in the other room. "I gotta go now. Something to do," he said.

"Oh. Alright," she said.

"It was nice knowing and talking to you," Bridge said, standing up and downing the last of his water.

"Same to you," Kat said, also standing up. Much to Bridge's surprise, she stood taller than him by half a head.

"Maybe I'll see you sometime again," Bridge said.

"Perhaps," Kat said.

Bridge gave her a final wave before turning and leaving the bar area. A blast of noise slipped through, amongst cheering and shouting before being cut off again.

"Or most likely will," Kat sighed as she sat back down. For her now, things had just gotten a hundred times more complicated with Bridge knowing about her (though hopefully not her real identity).

* * *

**Time: 2359 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Table 19, gaming area, MaxStar Space Casino, near Austrus III**

"You win," a person conceded as he handed over his chips to Valda with a sigh, a flick of a bony finger and a tap of his cigar.

Valda merely smiled. "Thank you so much. Perhaps next time you'll defeat me, but not this time."

The tall, lanky, bony alien nodded as he stood up, and left.

"Anybody in?" the dealer asked, while Valda waited for a new challenger.

Nobody wanted to challenge him, not after seeing him win against seven opponents straight without so much as sweating.

"What a shame," he sighed.

"I'm in," a new voice declared, as everybody around the table froze.

Valda did his best to contain his shock as the S.P.D. agent who he was sure was dead sat down and tossed a few hundred notes on the table.

"Five hundred," Bridge said, eyeing his arch-nemesis of sorts. There was no way that Valda was going to attempt to pull anything against him with every eye on them.

The dealer dealt the cards, and ten minutes later, it had boiled down to a single roll of the dice.

Valda glanced at his and Bridge's cards, and raised one eyebrow, but nodded.

"Your call." There was no way for this new person, even if he was an S.P.D. agent, to beat him.

Bridge took the pair of dice and started to shake them in his hand. He needed a seven to win the game and then…he'd follow Valda. First he had to knock the ringleader's confidence and ego down a major notch.

With a deep breath, Bridge released the pair of the dice, and hoped for the best.


	10. Pursuit

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: Firstly, I'd like to apologise for the long delay in the updating of this story: a number of things served to delay it. Shorter chapter ahead for all of you people: not so much because I didn't like the number of reviews, but because this is a lead up to the ending of the small arc of which there are many in this story. Again, thank you to all the people who reviewed last chapter! And to let you know, some of this chapter was inspired by the fictional 'Secret Agent Clank' show that is featured on the opening video of Ratchet and Clank 3. I'm pretty sure you'll recognise where I'm coming from if you've seen it. If not, just Youtube it if you want to.

Reviews, and I'll again see you next week! Yes, the chapter is coming along quite nicely so it'll be on time (provided you're kind enough to review)!

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

"_Ninjas? Why are there ninjas?!" _

"_Who doesn't like ninjas?" _

_S.P.D. Intelligence Agent Bridge Carson and Chimera Agent Katherine 'Kat' Manx reflecting upon MaxStar Casino Incident_

* * *

**Time: 0017 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Gaming Table 19, MaxStar Casino, near Austrus III**

Every single breath from every single person at Gaming Table 19 was held in every single throat as the two, almost insignificant white cubes with cute little black dots in varying numbers from one to six bounced around the table. They clattered against the high-rising walls of the gaming table, crossed the various boxes and squares painted against the velvety green cloth of the table, knocked over the piles of stacked money chips, and were nigh on unstoppable as they ploughed through two other piles of money chips, before finally running out of momentum, and started to slow down.

If it was possible, every single breath was abated even further, as no one dared to breathe in the multiple heart-stopping moments that followed the pair of dice slowing down. They clattered and rolled, twisting and turning as each and every eye followed them on their crazy, random path of destruction across the playing field. In the final moments, the dice stopped moving, and instead settled for rolling around slowly.

They stopped moving, clinking together in finality as the numbers of the top became readable, and a gasp came from most of the audience, followed by two shocked and incredulous faces.

A three-dotted side and a four-dotted side had met everyone's eyes.

In the stunned silence that followed, as Valda Kintopp struggled to comprehend how he had lost, his mouth opening and closing in an eerily similar fashion to a goldfish (or basically any other fish). Bridge also tried to comprehend a much greater matter: how he had won.

When he was finally done contemplating for all of ten seconds, he had come up with three answers: he was either exceptionally lucky and therefore had gotten the required seven to win, or he was more skilled at the gambling thing than he had thought. Or some divine entity was favouring him during that moment of truth. One of those was probably it.

A slow clapping started to happen sporadically, before growing in increasing volume as the people around started to cheer for Bridge. A few people close to him clapped him on the back, and a pair of women attached themselves to his side, both of whom he brushed off as politely as he could.

On the other side of the table, Valda had finally composed himself as best he could, and started to speak.

"Your luck is extraordinary, Mr…?"

"Not luck. I'm just skilled," Bridge answered coolly. "And it's Carson. Bridge Carson."

"I would not bet that it was all due to your so-called 'skill', Mr. Carson," Valda replied. "This game is all about chance."

"Then chance, and according to you, luck, is also on my side then."

"I think not, Mr. Carson," Valda dubiously said, lighting a cigar before letting out a puff of smoke. "You cannot chance everything forever."

"I'll think about it," Bridge said with a tight smile.

"Then you win," Valda conceded, pushing his pile of money chips over to Bridge.

"Why thank you."

"Don't bet on it; your luck won't last forever…" Valda said, taking another puff of the cigar, before reaching for a hidden remote that was his 'Plan B', and tapped it. "…_Agent Carson_!"

To both sides of Bridge and also behind him, a _clink_ signified the landing of Valda Kintopp's Plan B.

Bridge whipped around to see…three robotic ninjas advancing towards him. All three were coloured with reddish-brown armour, had an optical sensor in the shape of a glowing red shield on their heads, and were slimmer than most combat robots. The only difference between the three was the coloured stripes running down their shoulders: one was black, one was blue and the last was a bright red. They appeared to be unarmed…until all three activated their double-bladed swords, which glowed with the same colour as their armour, and crackled with energy. People started screaming and running as the robotic ninjas advanced towards their target: Bridge.

"Aw hell, ninjas?!"

The lead black-striped robo-ninja (which he had labelled Robo-Ninja 1) leapt towards Bridge, its sword held high above its head. Bridge rolled out of the way, as the sword came down where he had been standing just moments ago. The blade left a black scorch mark where it had burnt through the thick carpet.

Coming out of his roll, Bridge drew his hidden laser pistol, knelt down and sighted for the second ninja which he had nicknamed in his head Robo-Ninja 2. It was charging straight for him, the sword held at its side as Robo-Ninja 1 was just starting to recover from its strike, and as for Robo-Ninja number 3…he had no idea.

Having lined up the charging ninja, Bridge squeezed several shots off at the robotic ninja. Much to his dismay, the ninja whipped out its sword, and spun it around its fingers in jaw-dropping movements. The blade moved so fast that it created a red circular blur in front of the ninja. The lasers struck the blur and were dissipated into nothing.

The ninja charged again, and Bridge leapt up, dodging a floor sweep. He twisted to the side, and narrowly avoided the thrust of the blade. He lashed out with a kick, but the ninja flipped back, avoiding it. The ninja landed on its feet in a slightly hunched position, the sword held behind its back and the other hand in the classic 'come and get it' gesture.

Before Bridge could attack, the third ninja ran up from behind the second ninja, and used that ninja's armoured shoulders as a position to launch itself high up in preparation for another attack on Bridge. This time though, Bridge managed to shoot the ninja in the arm, spinning it around and back through the air into the first ninja.

"Your time is up Agent Carson!" Valda Kintopp shouted, his own laser pistol out and aimed at Bridge.

"Not you as well!"

The laser went wide, striking a slot machine and blowing out the cover. Coins poured out like a waterfall, this time flowing in the way of the second ninja, who, despite its supposed 'ninja-ness', lost its footing and was buried under a mountain of coins.

"A lucky shot!" an enraged Valda Kintopp said, sending a flurry of lasers at Bridge who ducked behind yet another slot machine which soon found itself under assault from Valda's pistol.

"I didn't shoot the thing; you did!" Bridge countered over the sound of Valda shooting. He found an abandoned metal serving tray on the ground, and stomped on it, sending the circular disc flying into his hands. He brought it up to shield himself against the next laser…which melted a hole in the tray. Bridge's eyes widened, before he ducked behind another slot machine. "I need to talk to the management about keeping their trays shiny enough to deflect lasers," he sighed.

One of the ninjas stalked over from his right, and Bridge managed to surprise it by throwing the serving tray straight into its face, before following up with a roundhouse kick. The ninja recovered in time for it to start countering Bridge's attacks, its hands and legs moving constantly to try and find a pattern in Bridge's attacks. In truth, there _was_ no pattern; Bridge was striking out at it with whatever he could come up with, simply because he knew one thing; he had to keep the ninja from finding a way to attack him.

"Die, agent, die!" Valda was laughing like the madman he was as he let loose laser after laser at Bridge.

Unfortunately for Valda, one of his own bolts struck the ninja Bridge was fighting, causing it to emit a metallic grunt and falter. Bridge seized upon the opportunity as the ninja released one hand from its blade to balance itself. He also grabbed onto the handle between the two blades, and began an epic struggle between the forces of the metallic ninja and the strength of his arms.

"This…is painful," Bridge said, gritting his teeth as he struggled against the ninja, aware of the other two approaching and Valda attempting to gain a good shot on him.

The ninja made no sound as it also tried to win out against Bridge. Finally, Bridge lifted his leg, and planted a solid kick against the ninja's chest with a loud _clang_! The ninja stepped back, and momentarily lost its grip on its sword.

"Thank you, come again!" Bridge announced, wrenching the double-bladed sword from its owner's grasp.

He swung it in a wide arc, connecting with the ninja's head with another loud metallic _clang_!, spinning its head around neatly as it followed the motion to the floor. The ninja lay sprawled out on the carpeted floor like an unconscious drunk. Before Bridge could deliver the final blow, one of the other ninjas leapt up onto the slot machine next to Bridge with another metallic _clang_.

"You're end has come," the ninja said in a monotone voice, before raising its sword and leaping at Bridge.

"Not another one!" Bridge moaned, barely blocking the ninja's strike and swiping at its hip.

The ninja twisted out of the way, but before it could launch into another attack routine programmed into its all-powerful (at least, when compared to other, more standard desktop computers) CPU, Bridge thrust his own stolen (or as he preferred to call it, borrowed-without-permission) sword into the ninja's chest, smashing it apart in a hail of harmless sparks.

"Noooooo!" Valda screamed. "_THAT WAS AMONG ONE OF THE MOST EXPENSIVE ROBOTS MONEY CAN BUY!!" _

"Tough luck mister!" Bridge shouted back, moments before one armed ninja and another unarmed but still decidedly very dangerous ninja leapt in front of him.

The pair circled him like a shark, as Bridge circled them, resulting in an endless circle being walked again, and again, and again, all over again. As they circled each other, they slowly moved deeper and deeper into the fluorescent jungle of brightly coloured slot machines and other such gambling devices which Bridge had vowed never to touch (his salary was tough enough without him losing endless amounts of his somewhat limited cash to the damned machines…). The atmosphere was extremely tense and brittle that it could've been shattered by a rusted spoon thrown with all the force of a two-year old. And like the spoon, the atmosphere was shattered by the armed ninja jumping forward, its sword spinning around in a very complicated and mesmerising pattern, before stepping forward and swinging its sword.

"You. Must. Die," the ninja said in the same monotone voice, accenting each word with a swing of its sword.

"This…is…not…fun," Bridge remarked, parrying each blow from the ninja with his own sword.

He blocked a strike, and then swept the sword aside, before raising his own and bringing it down vertically. The agile ninja leapt out of the way, rolling on the ground as Bridge's sword carved an obscene and obvious black gash in the red carpet before taking cover behind another slot machine within the maze of slot machines where they were battling.

"That's gonna leave a mark."

With one ninja having disappeared around the machines, and with Valda now actively peeking around the machines also looking for him, Bridge decided to focus his attention on the unarmed ninja still standing in a classic kung-fu stance in front of him.

"One on one, eh amigo?" Bridge asked, showing off some Spanish before assuming what he supposed was the best and coolest looking stance he could with the awesome laser sword.

The ninja probably didn't hear him, and instead took to showing off its own skills with its kung-fu moves. It pulled off fancy movements with its hands, arms, legs and feet, constantly moving so that the metallic limbs were little more than a reddish blur. It finished with a kick in the air, and landed crouching in another kung-fu pose. Bridge had the feeling that if it had been programmed with a wisecrack function, it would've said, '_top that, bitch'_.

Instead, the secret agent just stared at it, before proceeding to pull out his pistol, and blasted the ninja full of holes before it could even react.

"Badda bing, badda boom," Bridge said, flipping the pistol back into its holster.

"Nooooooo!" Valda screamed again, having heard the distinctive _thump_ that denoted the ninja falling and the _whine_ of the processors stopping. "Curse you Agent Carson! Curse you!"

"Get over it," Bridge called back over the top of the machines. "And while you're at it, get a better name!"

"Grrrrr…you two, follow me! Cover my escape!" Valda yelled, deciding that hunting the agent wasn't particularly the brightest of ideas and also ironically, telling Bridge his plan.

However, the only thing working in Valda's favour at that moment was his last ninja, Robo-Ninja 3. The robotic menace leapt right out from between a pair of slot machines, and tackled Bridge to the floor.

"Oomph!" he grunted as he hit the floor with the ninja on top. He quickly kicked the ninja off him. "Sorry, I don't like having people on top."

The ninja landed gracefully, and proceeded to swing its sword around, much like the unarmed ninja. It too ended with a dramatic pose, spinning the sword around its body and head without letting the blade actually touch it.

"This again?" Bridge sighed, before proceeding to pull his pistol out again, and firing again.

The lasers were instantly blocked by the ninja, who either spun its sword really quickly, or simply dove out of the way. With a metallic war cry, the ninja launched itself forward, touching to the ground before Bridge, who took a step back instinctively to avoid the ninja's lunge. But instead, it planted its sword in the ground (burning yet another sizeable hole in the carpeting), and used it to spin around in a kick in a Matrix-like fashion.

The attack connected, and sent Bridge flying into a slot machine. He crashed against it, and nearly bowled it over.

"Ouch…" Bridge moaned as the ninja took a gigantic flying leap towards him. "Oh hell…"

He dove out of the way just in time for the ninja to go streaking right past him like a missile. The ninja impacted with the machine that Bridge had also struck, and this time, knocked it over. The sound of coins clattering to the ground filled the air as the ninja stood up, coins pouring off it like water. The ninja stared at him with its sword held at its side as Bridge stared back, doing his best not to blink.

"Is this going to turn into a staring contest or what?" Bridge asked.

The ninja replied; by flipping back onto a still standing slot machine, and from there, taking a lunge at Bridge, who just barely brought his own sword up in time.

The two clashed, constantly moving as their swords clanged against each other's while throwing off enough sparks to light up the room had the lights not been on. At one point, Bridge had to vault over the bar counter to avoid the blade, which sliced a dozen bottles of various drinks apart, spilling their contents all over the floor and counter. Eventually, Bridge finally managed to knock the ninja's blade away, and planted a solid kick in its chest. The ninja stepped back…into the spilt alcohol which caused it to lose its footing. The graceless metallic monstrosity of a ninja fell onto the floor, sat up and looked up just to see Bridge step up to it.

"Adios amigo," Bridge said, before swinging the blade horizontally at the ninja's neck.

The laser-enhanced blade slashed through the neck and separated the head from the body, which fell back as the head flew through the air. Knowing that most modern security/combat robots carried a backup processor, Bridge plunged the blade into the ninja's chest, causing a great deal of sparks and flailing from the now-deceased/deactivated ninja.

"Finally," Bridge sighed, before dropping the sword next to the still-sparking ninja. "What now? Oh yeah, Valda."

With the evil megalomaniac's plan still in his mind, Bridge took off after the madman, leaving behind the sparking ruins of three extremely expensive robotic ninjas and a thoroughly deserted casino.

**

* * *

**

Time: 0034 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Parking Space Bay 1, MaxStar Casino, near Austruss III

Less than half an hour had passed since Bridge had made the fateful/lucky roll of the dice, and already he was in a world of trouble. Not only had he been assaulted by a trio of heavily armed ninjas, but now he was under fire from a hastily setup blockade. A pair of metal barricades had been placed on the path, and in between them was an automated laser turret, which tracked his movements as he ran from the firing emplacement and flung himself down behind a parked shuttle which instantly started to take the beating.

"Note to self, always bring some form of explosive…even if they are hard to hid in a suit," Bridge noted, looking at his suit and its various pockets even as the emplacement continued to hammer away with high-powered lasers capable of blowing medium sized holes in a sheet of metal.

Without a single piece of something capable of going _boom_ and hopefully taking something else with it, Bridge decided to wait until the automated rifle either stopped firing or ran out of power. Neither of which it seemed to be capable of doing as well, even as Valda got further and further away from him.

"Bloody hell," he sighed, waiting behind the shuttle even as it was beginning to be chewed up by the lasers. "Time to go."

He prepared himself for a sprint to the next closest available vehicle when another epiphany struck him like a hammer.

"What an idea; why didn't I think of it earlier?" he mumbled to himself.

Launching himself out behind the vehicle, Bridge began a mad sprint to the nearest vehicles not a moment too soon: the shuttle he had been taking cover behind exploded into a raging fireball and subsequently a roaring inferno as the shuttle took the last laser it was capable of doing. With the lasers tracking at his heels as a very good incentive, Bridge ran faster. He took a flying leap onto the top of a vehicle, and began to jump from vehicle to vehicle as erratically as possible. Now not only did he have the lasers at his heel to be an incentive to run/hop as fast and accurately as he could, but he had the empty space below as well.

The idea worked, as the emplacement sprayed laser after laser after laser at him to no avail. The lasers struck the many shuttles he was jumping from, and one just narrowly avoided his head. At last, he was back onto the path…behind the emplacement and out of its firing range and angle. With a single shot, Bridge shot out the power supply, and the gun died down, becoming little more than a useless pile of junk.

"People these days," he sighed to himself before taking off down the path.

* * *

"Hold off the agent, men!" Valda shouted even as he ran as fast as he could down towards a waiting shuttle that would take him to the small warship that he possessed…courtesy of a few new friends.

Once he was aboard the warship, maybe he'd actually send the disc out and get the agent off his tail - and then a substantial reward, of course. It always paid to have friends in high and well-paid positions. And then…it was off to start his empire anew. Preferably in an area out of S.P.D. or Chimera presence, as the two had a tendency to crack down exceptionally quickly on any sort of crime ring within months of it being set up.

"This way, sir!" one of his few elite troopers said, beckoning him over to his personal shuttle. Equipped with heavy armour and the best weapons he had been given, they were his most loyal soldiers and four stood guard around his ship, followed by another two who were now flanking him.

"Good job. I want two of you to stay back and hold off the S.P.D. dog," he ordered.

The two flanking him snapped to attention and turned to face the way they came, even as other people consisting of Valda's entourage shuffled past them. When the sounds of the automated laser emplacement they had set down to stall the agent stopped, everyone started to walk a lot faster. And when the sounds of laser fire filled the air, they all but _ran_ for the shuttle.

"Halt, S.P.D.!" they heard Bridge shout, only mere metres away. With an infamous S.P.D. agent at their heels, all sense of order was lost as everyone screamed and panicked, pushing and shoving each other to get onto the shuttle and to safety first.

The two soldiers Valda had assigned to stop Bridge attempted to get in the agent's way, but Bridge was by now more than a little angry. He kicked the soldier's gun away, and followed it up with a blunt jab with the butt of his pistol. The soldier stumbled back and collapsed.

"Stop…getting…in…my way!" Bridge snapped, kicking the other soldier around before swinging around with a roundhouse that connected directly with the soldier's helmeted head. The kick sent the soldier flipping around backwards in a spiral, his laser rifle spitting colourful bolts into space like fireworks but admittedly much deadlier.

"So long, agent!" Valda screamed at him suddenly over the radio, nearly deafening Bridge and knocking him back in the process.

"Damn! Do you have any idea of courtesy?!" Bridge shouted back, even as a shuttle suddenly buzzed him, nearly shaving his head off. "Time to find my own shuttle," he mumbled.

Taking off in the direction that he hoped was the right direction, Bridge didn't notice a second shuttle beginning to pursue the shuttle that carried Valda. And besides, he was busy wondering what kind of fee he would have to pay for the parking.

* * *

**Time: 0041 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Middle of space near Austruss III asteroid belt**

"Warning: enemy Class-D mini-frigate detected ahead," the computerised female voice coolly alerted Bridge as he flew his shuttle at breakneck speed.

"Sophie, estimated time until weapons range?" Bridge asked.

"Weapons range in…"

Before the computer could respond, laser fire suddenly lit up the space around Bridge's shuttle.

"Never mind…" Bridge said, jerking his shuttle back and forth as the lasers traced lines through space. "Dang thing is armed well."

"Affirmative Agent Carson. Multiple weapon turrets have been detected, as well as the presence of two torpedo launchers," Sophie chimed in.

"Torpedos?!" Bridge exclaimed, nearly losing his concentration. It was only when a beam flashed by, dangerously close, that he quickly re-gripped the controls. "Do we have countermeasures?"

"Affirmative: scramblers were installed by Technician Number #03215, otherwise known as Boom, on the twenty-eighth of August, standard Earth time in the northern hemisphere," the computer recited.

"Okay…I meant like the flashy ones, the ones that light up and distract the torpedos!"

"Please hold while I process your query," Sophie calmly said, even as Bridge began sweating through piloting the storm of laser fire.

"Come on Sophie…don't do this now…I need a bit of info…" Bridge said.

"Search function complete. There are no flares aboard and the system has yet to be installed. From upgrading schedule, this shuttle is scheduled to undergo the installation of the flares in precisely one week from now," Sophie said.

"One week?! I have less than two minutes if they launch torpedos!" Bridge nearly screamed.

"That is untrue: at the projected distance and current scans of the mini-frigate, it would take approximately five minutes for the torpedos to warm up, acquire a lock and to make the distance."

"That's a great help Sophie," Bridge said, even as he pulled the shuttle (in fact, it was more of a space fighter than a shuttle) into a tight barrel roll. A pair of lasers whizzed past. "I've just about had it with this guy! Sophie, warm up the lasers!"

"Laser cannons charging. They will be ready for sustained fire in ten seconds."

"And while you're at it, activate the scramblers; I'd prefer they already be on when they launch torpedos," Bridge said, dodging another pair of lasers.

"Scramblers are being activated. Laser cannons are at ninety percent charge and will be ready within the next three seconds," Sophie said.

"Finally! A little payback," Bridge exclaimed as a clear pane of glass slowly rose up in front of him.

A second later, all sorts of data flowed across the surface of the HUD, and a green targeting reticule popped up. A birds-eye view of the ship was to the bottom left, showing the ship's integrity, which was thankfully at 100.

"HUD initialised. Enjoy the aspects of it," Sophie said.

"Will do!" Bridge said, pulling the trigger for the twin laser cannons built into the ship.

Suddenly, there were two lanes of lasers flying madly across space. Several bolts struck the mini-frigate, but due to its heavier armour, it merely shrugged them off. The chase continued, as Bridge and Valda's ship continued to trade laser for laser while Bridge also did his best to fly the ship in a very erratic manner.

"Where did that guy get that ship?" Bridge wondered aloud, firing a pair of lasers into the frigate. One of the laser turrets which had been spewing lasers at him exploded in a fireball, tossing the barrels of the twin laser cannons through space and right past Bridge's cockpit. "Whoa! That was close."

"Your assumption is correct Agent Carson. Fifty centimetres closer, and that would have ruptured the ship," Sophie reported.

"Yeah, Sophie? Do me a favour," Bridge said, jamming his thumbs down on the triggers again. "I don't need to know how lucky I am, alright?"

"Accepted, but there is a new development you should be aware of, Agent."

"And what is that?" Bridge asked, jerking the fighter to the left.

"Two enemy fighters are launching."

"What the?!"

Sophie's words rang true when a pair of doors slid open in the belly of the frigate, and a pair of fighters dropped out. They fired up their engines, and boosted away from the frigate and towards Bridge.

"Oh hell."

Within seconds, a third and fourth stream of colourful and deadly bolts had joined the fray, as the fighters sped around Bridge, trying to get a good shot off at him even as the frigate began to make headway. On a two-on-one basis, the two fighters had numerical superiority. With two of them, they essentially had twice the firepower, speed and manoeuvrability that Bridge had. But they lacked one crucial thing or more precisely, they lacked two: they didn't have Bridge's quick thinking or a computational A.I. helping to control their ships.

"Warning, fighter is above us," Sophie warned.

"Oh boy. Um, Sophie? What do we have against a fighter above us?" Bridge chuckled nervously.

"Activating Primary Defence Mechanism #2," Sophie said.

"What is Primary Defence Mechanism Two!?"

Just as the fighter above them dove down, its cannons ready to be blazing, a small panel opened up at the top of Bridge's shuttle. It quickly spread itself out, unfolding in a mechanical way to reveal…a large mirror.

"A mirror?! Whose idea was that?!" Bridge nearly screamed.

Then the fighter above them fired; lasers roared down, struck the mirror, and were reflected off the surface. Then the fighter was quickly forced to pull out of its attack run, joining up with its wing mate.

"I see. Phew. Sophie, remind me to buy whoever installed that system a drink," Bridge said, wiping the sweat off his brow. "And do we have anything that'll finish this up really quickly?"

"This shuttle is equipped with a pair of multi-warhead missile launchers."

"We have missile launchers? Since when?"

"Please hold while I process your query. And enemy fighter, dead ahead," Sophie reported.

"Okay…no problems Soph," Bridge said, triggering the cannons again, and this time, he actually struck one of the fighters, blowing off a tail fin in an explosion. "Progress!"

"Enemy fighter is not yet critically damaged. Many of its systems are still operational. Also, the missile launchers had been installed on the same day as the scramblers were," Sophie said.

"Okay…and why didn't you tell me that earlier?"

"Because there was no query relating to issue. You didn't ask," Sophie informed Bridge.

Bridge sighed. "Alright, just get the launchers ready; I wanna blow these guys right out of the water."

"There is no water currently for you to blow them out of," Sophie corrected.

"Sophie, you're a great help, but when we get back, ask someone to install a sensor between figurative speech and literal speech."

"Affirmative. Missile launchers are ready," Sophie said.

"Get a lock on the one I just nailed," Bridge ordered, manoeuvring to get behind one.

"Lock on complete. Missiles are ready to fire at your request."

"Fire! Blow the guy to Timbuktu already!" Bridge shouted suddenly, as he realised that Valda's frigate was straight ahead and that the other fighter was now behind him and that he was now caught in a laser sandwich, with him being straight in the middle.

"Missile away."

A small port opened in the wing of Bridge's ship, and a deceptively small missile dropped out, before firing its engines and boosting for the fighter. It instantly began to release flares by the dozen, shooting out brightly coloured sparks in the hope that the missile would go for them instead. It worked…in a way. The missile, before touching the clouds of flares, broke up into several smaller bits and pieces, of which half went for the flares. The other half however, steered straight for the fighter, and promptly blew it in half.

"Woo! Got the bastard!" Bridge shouted. Then the fighter/shuttle shook violently. "What the…?"

"Warning, rear armour integrity at critical levels," Sophie chimed in.

"Uh Sophie? We wouldn't have any rear-facing guns, would we?" Bridge asked nervously, even as he began to jerk the fighter/shuttle left and right.

"Negative. Recommend that you eject, Agent Carson. This ship will not hold up for much longer."

"Ah heck, that's just better!" Bridge said, even as the frigate slowed down, and began firing at Bridge, scoring several hits.

"Ship integrity compromised, Agent Carson. There is a ninety-nine percent chance that the shuttle will explode."

Even as Sophie began reporting the damage to Bridge, he didn't notice that he had actually flown straight underneath Valda's frigate. His shuttle was beginning to trail smoke now, and much of the rear armour had been shot right off.

"Alright, better eject," Bridge said, reaching for the ejector seat button.

"Best decision yet, Agent Carson. Ejector seat and capsule is primed. Have a good day," Sophie said.

"Bye Sophie. I'll miss you."

Then Bridge hit the eject button. An airtight dome formed around him, sealing him off against space, and the canopy of the shuttle blew open. The rockets underneath the capsule fired, and lifted Bridge out of the ship…and straight into the hangar bay of Valda's frigate, just as the madman realised that Bridge could've had a shot straight inside his ship, and closed the hangar door…right after Bridge had shot inside, isolated from the rest of the galaxy.


	11. Belly of the Beast

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: I suppose I should say something about the chapter length. It'll be short, I promise you that. Just don't expect all chapters to be the same length, as some may be longer, others may be shorter and pretty much everything else in between.

And one teeny last thing that has been bugging me, and no doubt virtually every other author on this site: alerters. As in, non-reviewing alerters/favouriters as some do have the politeness to drop a review. You should know who you are. Could it hurt if you guys just dropped a line or two commenting on the story or even asking for an update? It won't take more than a minute of your life.

That's all from me, remember to review, and I'll see you all next week hopefully!

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

"_You're Chimera?" _

"_Yes and no: yes, I am a Chimera agent, no; I do not go around shooting everything that moves."_

_S.P.D. Intelligence Agent Bridge Carson and Chimera Agent Katherine 'Kat' Manx__, first meeting aboard Valda Kintopp's frigate _

* * *

**Time: 0114 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Bridge of Valda Kintopp's frigate, somewhere near Austruss III**

The bridge was a very tense space to be in currently, as the small figure of Valda Kintopp paced angrily around the bridge. His hands were clasped behind his back, as he walked circles around the consoles, the two support pillars, down to the lower level, and back again. A pair of his elites stood at the door, ready to put a laser into anything that so much as moved against him.

"Where is the agent?" Valda demanded, still pacing. Although he did his best not to show it (after all, he did have his mob boss image to maintain), he was quite clearly nervous about the agent who had managed to defeat two of his elites without much difficulty, shot down one of his pilots and now was nearly nowhere to be found.

"Um, we still haven't found him yet boss…" one of the people manning the consoles said as Valda reared on him.

"What? How can you not find him?" he demanded. "The agent is in a suit! A _suit_ for crying out loud! Everyone onboard this ship is or should be wearing a uniform! How can he not stand out?!"

"Uh, it's not that sir," the person said, beginning to sweat a lot more. "The thing is…we can't find him on the cameras."

This time, Valda grabbed the poor person by the collar. "I don't care what you have to do: I want you, any of you, to _find that damned agent_! Can I make that any clearer?!"

Everyone on the bridge began nodding, before shaking their heads, and then, after a moment of confusion, nodded again, before realising that they weren't sure of which one of their leader's questions they were nodding/shaking their heads to. This time, they settled for simply shrugging.

"Unbelievable," Valda sighed, letting go of the person's collar, much to their relief. "You _cannot_ find good help anywhere in this galaxy anymore."

This time, no one decided to answer, for fear of invoking Valda's short-tempered wrath. A silence reigned king on the bridge, only punctuated by Valda's attempts at deep breathing to calm down, the tapping of people's fingers/claws on consoles, and the consistently insistent beeping of very self-important consoles.

"Have the pilots reported in yet?" Valda snapped suddenly as he once more began pacing.

"Not yet sir," the flight officer said, checking the records in an attempt to look busy. It was hard to be busy as a flight officer when there hadn't been any flights launched that hadn't been ordered or checked out.

"How long have they been out there?"

"Nearly ten minutes. Sir," the officer hastily amended as the two heavily armed guards at the door glared in his direction.

"Ten minutes," Valda mused, holding a hand to his chin as he paced around. "That should've been more than enough time to destroy that agent."

"Perhaps they ran into a little trouble," the flight officer said, his oily-looking skin flushing a deep blue as his species often did in times of stress.

"Alert everyone aboard the ship," Valda said. "We have a loose S.P.D. agent potentially aboard the ship, and a reward goes to anyone who can find him and bring him to me, and I don't care if he's dead or alive!"

The officer in charge of all inter-ship and a cross-ship communications saluted, and then proceeded to relay the information and the bounty.

"Get us full speed to the point where he awaits our arrival," Valda ordered, stopping his pacing at the front of the bridge. "Repair any damage that we have sustained because of that blasted agent, set up checkpoints everywhere onboard the ship, and I need one every ten metres starting from the corridor leading to the bridge, and have whatever spare security personnel we have man them. Get someone to check our torpedos, and also get another person to check the armoury. And I want at least five guards in the armoury at any time, understand?"

"Yes sir!" the entire bridge crew said in unison, before they turned back to their stations with their new orders.

They then immediately set out to carry out the madman's slightly (perhaps a bit more considering what he was demanding) excessive, if not paranoid orders. Within minutes however, they had hit a snag: they simply lacked enough security guards and soldiers (properly called militia, all things considered…) to carry out all the things that he needed to be done.

"Outrageous! How can we run out of people to carry out the tasks?" Valda demanded once the officer had approached him about it.

"Well, you see," the Soletuan native officer was quite nervous, and it showed in all her mannerisms as her large elf-like ears folded up, and she moved around in small circles. "This is a fairly small ship, and a lot of the people onboard are here to maintain it, though we do have a somewhat large security detail…"

"How can it happen?" Valda demanded again, before sighing. "Better yet, how can we fix it?"

"Ah, I just happen to have a solution," a voice said from the bridge's entrance.

A tall, caped bat-like person entered. The cape fluttered around him as he walked forward, and the person wore a glass dome akin to a fishbowl over his head.

"Broodwing," Valda said. "What do you have to offer this time?"

"A large number of cheap security robots at a cheap price. Krybots, you see," the intergalactically infamous weapons dealer offered, holding out a small metallic ball unlike a miniaturised soccer ball.

"What's the catch?" Valda asked, suspiciously eyeing Broodwing.

"Nothing, as long as you get that data disc to the point," Broodwing said, handing over three of the balls that contained the Krybots. "And by the way, I left something in the armoury for you that I think you'd appreciate. I expect to have it back when this is over."

He then proceeded to walk out of the bridge, where a trio of Krybots with orange, spiky heads escorted him away.

Valda turned to the officer and handed the Krybot soccer balls/containers over to her. "Here are your new security troopers. Get started on setting up everything I told you that I needed done, got that? Or else it's your head on the line."

"Yes, yes sir!" the officer nodded furiously in agreement and understanding this time, before clutching the containers to her chest tightly and heading out to set up the checkpoints with the new security detail.

"And I want someone to go down to the armoury and to check out what Broodwing has left for me!" Valda snapped to the other people on the bridge.

"Yes sir," another bridge crew officer said, tapping commands into the console.

Valda sighed as he stopped pacing for once, and sat down in his command chair which was located at the centre of the upper level. He had the feeling that today wasn't to be going to be as good as the other days.

**

* * *

**

Time: 0115 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Hangar Bay 01, Valda Kintopp's frigate, somewhere near Austruss III

The hangar bay that had once housed the pair of fighters was now, in short, a complete and utter mess. The equipment that had once been used to maintain the fighters in a decent condition to fight was now strewn all over the place, in walls, corners, and even some mysteriously stuck up on the lights. Many of the consoles were now rendered inoperable; some would've argued that the consoles were actually _better_ off than they were before, what with Microsoft Windows™ 2027 and all its non-functionality. It was a moot point when the fact that regular users of the consoles believed that a smashed up console was far better than a working one with Windows™ 2027 installed. But that wasn't the point.

In the centre of the whole mess was a small capsule. Sparks flew around it from the broken wires and the lights flickered on and off randomly as the power supply was either cut or reconnected.

A groan came from the capsule/ejection pod as Bridge pushed open a hatch on the side, and clambered out. He was completely unharmed, despite the harrowing ejection, and the subsequent landing in the hangar of the very ship he had to follow. The only thing that had gone wrong so far in fact was that his shuttle had been destroyed: the fighter who had been behind him had smashed into rear of his pilot-less shuttle, and both ships were then reduced to atoms in a rather magnificent explosion, if one would omit the fact that Bridge had just lost his ride out.

"Every cloud has a silver lining I suppose: I won't be leaving here without Valda," Bridge sighed to himself, dusting the…dust off his suit. "So at least Commander Cruger won't be barking up my tree about this whole Valda business anymore."

Before Bridge could make the connection between Commander Cruger being a dog and barking up a tree, which may or may not have resulted in a particularly long monologue about figures of speech, the door was busted down in a flagrant display of power and awesomeness. From the smashed down door a trio of Krybots stormed in, who stared at their surroundings for a while before noticing Bridge who in turned stared at the mechanised drones in the staring match of the century.

"Umm…you guys wouldn't happen to be the cleaners, would you?" Bridge nervously asked, reaching for his holstered pistol.

His question was answered when the three Krybots made that strange sound that was typical of the cheap, massed-produced robots, and levelled their lasers at Bridge, and fired. The beams went wide, exploding against the wall far above Bridge's head.

"Okay, I guess not!" Bridge shouted, hurling himself back against the side of the capsule even as more lasers exploded against the side of the capsule and the floor next to him.

He drew his laser pistol, and began to fire back at the Krybots, exchanging one laser for every three they sent his way and turning the messy hangar into an even greater mess as things started to be blown into small bits and pieces which then took up residence in new places.

"Hey, hey! Don't you think we could like negotiate a truce or something?" Bridge shouted. A laser bolt whizzed above his head and struck one of the holding cranes that unsurprisingly, held the fighters in position. The crane was sent flying around crazily, as the lasers continued to fly around the room.

By now, having not only fought off the ninjas and the way out of the MaxStar Casino parking bays, his pistol was starting to run out of energy. While it would slowly recharge itself over time, Bridge was using energy nearly twice as fast as it was charging. Which of course meant that sooner or later, he was going to run out of lasers to shoot back at the Krybots and therefore, he would have to end the gun battle they were currently holding relatively quickly.

"Come on, one last chance!" Bridge shouted again over the whine of lasers firing and the ensuing explosions, none of which thankfully, struck him. "We can discuss this over a drink of anything like a cup of oil or wine like real gentlemen would instead of shooting it out like gangsters!"

If the Krybots had noticed his offer, they either took no notice of it or outright ignored it, as they continued in their rather futile attempts to blast Bridge as the aiming of the lasers was amazingly poor. Two lasers exploded against the floor to the right of Bridge, showering him with harmless sparks and incidentally cleaning the grime that had collected there.

"Fine then, if you don't want to talk!" Bridge snapped. He loosed three quick random shots in succession over the top of the battered and dented capsule. They landed close enough to the Krybots to trigger their defence mechanisms: they stopped shooting, to find a suitable bit of cover.

But a number of things quickly complicated the matter: firstly, the newly developed systems designed to prolong the life of a Krybot in a battlefield (from an approximate of three minutes to hopefully five) had been installed without much testing, which meant they had to spend an average of three to ten seconds find an appropriate piece of cover. Secondly, the amount of lasers that had been traded between them and Bridge had resulted in basically the destruction of the hangar bay: there was barely anything large enough for them to cower behind now. And thirdly, they completely stopped shooting to divert power to the systems that had been installed to search for cover.

The resulting lack of return/suppressing fire meant that Bridge was able to leap out of his hiding place, and bolt like greased lighting towards the Krybots. His first shot after bolting from behind the capsule caught one of the Krybots in the chest, sending it spiralling around. The sudden attack from Bridge prompted the Krybots to cancel their search for cover, and the remaining duo launched themselves at Bridge.

The agent lifted his pistol, and shot at one while it was still flying midair, scoring a beautiful midair shot to the chest that abruptly reversed its direction and sent it spinning like a top. The Krybot crashed into wall, knocking down what little equipment that was still hanging on the wall.

Meanwhile, the third Krybot raised its bladed arm in midair as Bridge finished off the second one, intent on running through Bridge with it while his back was turned. He turned to see the Krybot flying through the air, and let out a yelp as he jumped back. The blade passed through the place he had been standing in just a few seconds ago, barely missing him.

"Play nice!" Bridge said, kicking the Krybot's arm away.

It stumbled, before righting itself and thrusting the blade straight at Bridge's chest. He managed to deflect the blade upwards with the handle of his pistol, leaving the Krybot's chest wide open to a wide variety of attacks. Running out of time, Bridge just decided to unload a pair of lasers into its chest, sending the mangled ruins of a Krybot into the ground.

"Time to get out of here," Bridge said, smoothing out his suit and taking one last look around at the now-thoroughly devastated hangar before running for the destroyed door.

_

* * *

_

Twenty minutes later…

Bridge panted as he stopped and leaned against the wall to catch his breath. He had run into three Krybot patrols so far and had succeeded in destroying all three, though not without a little difficulty. There was also the issue of one of the checkpoints which he had blazed through, leaving behind the unconscious bodies of the three security officers, and the smouldering ruins of a dozen more Krybots. He still couldn't understand why anybody would use Krybots. Sure, they were a bit of a challenge for the basic militaries and police forces, but Rangers and Chimera Black Ops soldiers typically would just laugh at the presence of Krybots and treated them as little more than target dummies that (very inaccurately) shot back.

Krybots only provided a challenge when they numbered in their hundreds against a much smaller enemy force where they simply filled up the air with laser blasts; accuracy was hardly an issue when an enemy had nowhere to dodge. Bridge and Sky actually held the record for the simulator's endurance battle: they had managed to defeat the one hundred Krybots within ten minutes, a record that anyone still had yet to beat.

Shaking his head to get rid of any thoughts that were not related to the mission (a hard task to do: the more he tried not to think about them, the more he actually was thinking about them), Bridge sneaked down another hallway, conscientious of any cameras that would locate him.

Either through luck or skill, or even a combination of the two, Bridge had managed to slip past every patrol he had encountered without too much difficulty as he searched for an adequate place to hide in. Preferably somewhere with lights and a nearby light switch, and boxes to hide inside as well.

And two minutes later, he hit the jackpot: a storage room that seemed abandoned. He scrambled around the room, and felt his way through the darkness, hearing the door close behind him with a _slam_, albeit much quieter.

After having sufficiently scrambled and felt his way deep enough into the room (at least, he thought it was far enough: it was hard to tell, given the darkness), he stopped, and hoped that he wasn't staring into the barrels of a dozen laser rifles. Reaching and then fumbling around in his pocket, he retrieved the communicator he kept there.

Unlike other standard communicators however, his one and indeed, all of the S.P.D.-issued communicators had been upgraded with an extra-powerful transmitters and receivers, so they were almost capable of galaxy-wide communications; if there was a comms buoy close enough, of course.

So Bridge grabbed the communicator, and started to tune it to the standard S.P.D. frequency, and simply hoped that there was an S.P.D. outpost or ship nearby to receive it.

"This is Agent Carson, S.P.D. Intelligence, can you read me? I'm in pursuit of the package, and I need some assistance pretty damned soon…and I've got a homing beacon activated now," Bridge said, pressing a small device the size of a button that was a tracking device. "Recommend you come with heavy firepower: these guys are well armed."

* * *

**Time: 0142 hours, galactic standard time / Location: S.P.D. frigate _Pegasus_, in orbit over Austruss III**

The bridge of the SPDS _Pegasus_ was, in comparison to the awkward silence of Valda's frigate, a peaceful place. As typical to most S.P.D. vessels and also very prevalent in the Command Centres of outposts and bases, the bridge was bathed in a soft blue lighting. The captain sat at his seat, folding his long, leafy fingers together as he watched the others go about their business with a quiet murmur in the air.

"Sir!" one of the officers called out. "We've received a transmission from an agent!"

This caused an obvious excited stir throughout the bridge as the captain stood up.

"Play it over the speakers," he said.

"_This is Agent Carson, S.P.D. Intelligence, can you read me?__ I'm in pursuit of the package, and I need some assistance pretty damned soon…and I've got a homing beacon activated now. Recommend you come with heavy firepower: these guys are well armed." _

The captain frowned as he started to walk back to his seat, thinking. "Relay that message to Central HQ and the Old Dog," he said, referring to Commander Cruger's nickname among nearly everyone. "And then hold and await further orders."

"Yes sir."

**

* * *

**

Time: 0144 hours, galactic standard time / Location: S.P.D. Central HQ, at unknown position

The aide hurried to the office that belonged to Commander Cruger as fast as he could, puffing and panting. He wasn't a very athletic person; he was a desk jockey, a job that rarely required much strenuous physical activity. But now he was in a hurry to rush from his office outside Cruger's office to the communications room, where they had something that needed to be personally delivered to Cruger, and to hurry back.

Finally reaching his destination with the report in hand, he approached the door leading to Cruger's office, and knocked three times, waiting for the Commander's typically growled response.

When none came, he knocked another three times, and a minute later, another three times. After a total of nine knocks, he decided that Cruger quite obviously now wasn't there. With another sigh, he realised that he would have to go for another run around the station to hunt down Cruger.

Steeling himself for the worst, which amounted to a run around the whole station and back again, he took off in search for probably the most important person in the station, trying not to think about the distance: it was probably large enough to have him faint on the spot.

Ten minutes later, he had finally heard something that made his heart soar: he thought he heard Commander Cruger's voice from inside one of the close-combat/hand-to-hand training arenas that were located in various areas of the station. Walking up to the room, and placing his ear against the door, he listened in for a while.

"Again," the Cruger-like voice said, which was followed by the clanging of the practice swords against each other. "No no, not like that. Again!"

The aide then decided that he had heard enough to reach the conclusion that Commander Cruger was in the room. He brought his fist up, and knocked on the door three times and then stepped back to an adequate distance as not to alert Cruger to the fact that he had been listening in.

"Yes?" Cruger asked as he poked his head out, followed by Sky.

"Sir," his aide panted. "I've got a top priority report for you from the _Pegasus_."

"Very well. Do you have it on you now?" he asked.

His aide handed forward the report.

"Good man," Cruger said, opening the report and beginning to scroll through it. When he had finished, he stiffened up. "Okay, Sky, I need you to pick three of our top close-combat teams. We've got a situation from Bridge."

Instead of asking stupid questions, Sky nodded. "Yes sir."

* * *

**Time: 0142 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Beutat's office, onboard Chimera Mobile HQ _Phoenix_**

"Commander," Felix greeted as he entered Betuat's office.

"Doctor, please sit," Beutat said, gesturing at the seat, in which Felix carefully sat down. Both males watched each other with their own observations, neither inclined to trust each other.

"You may want to know why I've called you here in the middle of the night," Beutat started.

"Hard to tell when it's night or day when we're in space," Felix shrugged. "And I wasn't sleeping so it wasn't any problem."

"I see. In any case, I have called you here to ask you about our mutual friend, Kat. I have not received a report from her in over a day. Nobody else seems to know where she has gone, so therefore, I'm asking you," Beutat said, drawing a gulp from his omnipresent cup of coffee.

"I haven't seen her either," Felix said cautiously. "The last time I saw her was yesterday, after her physical. I ordered her to get some rest, and that was the last time I saw her."

"What did that physical involve?"

"The usual: tests, reflexes, any internal injuries. I do have the full report filed in the system, so it may be more accurate to check it from there," Felix remarked.

Beutat rose out of his seat, cup of coffee in hand and began pacing around the room. Felix watched his movement like a hawk, never letting his guard down. He and Beutat always had a very strained relationship: they both disliked (read: hated) each other with a passion. And Felix would've betted his life salary on the fact how he knew the true reason why: he thought it was because of Kat and how he had a better relationship with her than he did.

"So you still haven't seen her?"

"As I confirmed to you moments ago, no, I haven't."

"Then find out," Beutat snapped, downing the rest of his coffee and headed for the refill table. "And dismissed."

* * *

**Time: 0158 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Unknown room in Valda Kintopp's frigate**

Bridge sighed as he sunk down ever lower, if such an act was possible. He already was crouching down, leaning against one of the crates in the room, and now almost had his head buried in his knees. Almost, but not quite.

It was nearly two o'clock in the morning now, according to the timer on his communicator. Not that it meant much in space: space was dark wherever you went. In fact, the only thing that the time had meant was that he had now gone for nearly a whole day without sleep, and now he was weary. Which of course meant that he would be easier to pick off and have someone be given the honour of the guy who killed the most famous S.P.D. agent in the galaxy.

Maybe he'd just nod off for a while; _not sleeping_, he reminded himself, _just closing my eyes for a while…which probably _is_ sleeping. _

Before he could do that however, the overhead lights of the room suddenly snapped on with a noise not-too dissimilar to a giant mechanical switch being flipped, and flooded the room with a bright light. Bridge leapt to his feet, and then quickly blinked in the sudden harsh light.

"Well well, if it isn't the famous Agent Carson," Valda's sly voice came over the speakers mounted across the room.

"Hey, I was trying to sleep!" Bridge shouted back.

"I have to congratulate you: no one else has made it so close to bringing me to justice."

"Well, thanks, but I don't really intend to stop now, you slimy git: I'll drag you to the cells by the ear if I have to!"

"I'd imagine that that would be quite hard to do without hands, Mr. Carson," Valda said, starting to snigger.

"Huh?" Bridge asked, glancing down momentarily to check that his hands were still attached. "What do you mean? I have all four limbs still intact and ready to kick your ass back to Jupiter!"

"I'd love to see you try…when that room you're in is flooded with concentrated sulphuric acid!"

As Valda finished speaking, small vents on the walls opened up, and a clear, sludgy liquid began pouring into the room against Valda's maniacal laughter.

"So long agent! I'll enjoy ejecting your dissolved remains into space!"

And with that, the speakers clicked shut, leaving Bridge to his acidy fate.

"Oh boy," he sighed, glancing at the liquid that was now almost reaching his position.

Not wanting to have his foot dissolved, Bridge thought quickly, and came up with a (very) temporary solution: he climbed up onto the crates around him just as the place he had been standing moments ago was smothered in acid, which wasn't eating into the conveniently acid-proof walls and instead began to rise.

Bridge climbed higher and higher as he did his best to avoid the rising acid levels, until he was at the very top of the tall stack of crates which also were acid-proof.

"Why is everything in this room acid-proof except for me?" Bridge muttered, staring dejectedly at the level of acid. "Why can't I be acid-proof?"

The acid level continued to rise.

* * *

Nearly ten minutes later, Bridge was nearly about to be dissolved by the acid, which had at this point risen to nearly the top of the stack of boxes he was standing on. With no hope of escape from a very messy ending, Bridge couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to be eaten away alive.

"What a way to go," he sighed.

Just as the acid was about to reach his foot, he heard a cutting noise above him, and looked up to see a circle being cut in the roof above, sparks flying down. The cutting and sparks stopped, and then the circular plate was lifted up.

A semi-familiar face stared down at him, but also, a lot more importantly, dropped a line of rope to him.

"Grab on!" the person shouted at him.

Bridge, with the acid nearly on his heels, needed no more inspiration as he grabbed the rope and began to pull himself up. The person on top also pulled at the rope, and managed to winch Bridge to safety, mere moments before he would've been dissolved by acid.

As soon as he was through the hole, Bridge sank down onto the ground, panting with the effort as his saviour placed the disc-shaped piece of roof back, and sealed the hole.

"Come on," she said, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. "This seal won't last forever, and I'd rather not be here when the acid gets through."

With barely more than a nod being as tired as he was, Bridge followed her to a safer area, which turned out to be the next floor up in _another_ deserted room. And it was in there where he found the identity of his saviour as she locked the door.

"Renee?!" he asked in disbelief.

"Actually, no," Kat answered.

"Then who are you?" Bridge demanded as Kat sat down next to him.

"My name's actually Katherine Manx. Friends call me Kat," Kat introduced.


	12. The End

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: Thanks to the people who reviewed last chapter. I really don't want to implement a 'I'll only update if I get X amount of reviews' system, because I think it makes things more difficult than it does to help reviews, and it stops the story and starts it up again randomly based on how many people review. I want it to be as streamlined as possible: the updating and the reviewing.

And there's another thing. The end of the year is starting to come up, and yes, I have holidays extremely soon. I don't want this story to continue to drag into next year, as I'll be too busy to update regularly, and that'll be bad, wouldn't it? So I intend to finish it by the end of the year, if not early next year the latest.

So instead, how about we make a deal? Depending on how much I can get done, I'll update twice a week every so often, and therefore, you readers can review twice a week ). If I get _five_ or more reviews an update…then there's a possibility of a third update within a week, providing that it's done, of course.

Okay, now leaving the prospect of reviews behind for the week, hope you enjoy this update! And drop some good luck my way in your review, would you? I've had the worst last week ever (three tests and a pair of assignments makes for a stupid way to end the term). And sorry if the last part of the chapter seems rushed. And thanks to Blueberry Bugger for beta-ing!

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

"_Do you believe in luck?" _

"_No, why?" _

"_Because I think we're about to need a lot of it, or some mighty big cojones to get through this." _

_S.P.D. Intelligence Agent Bridge Carson and Chimera Agent Katherine 'Kat' Manx, moments before preparing to assault bridge of Valda Kintopp's frigate_

* * *

**Time: 0236 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Unknown location within Valda Kintopp's frigate, somewhere in Austruss system**

"You're Katherine Manx?" Bridge asked, raising his brow. "The near infamous one?"

"The one and only," Kat replied, fishing out her badge from one of her pockets and handing it to him. "Besides, you're nearly as infamous among Chimera as I am among you S.P.D. types."

"…I suppose the name did give it away a little," Bridge said, looking up from the badge and started staring pointedly at the cat-like ears atop of her head.

"Perhaps, and I've heard all of the jokes before, so don't bother trying," Kat said, holding out her hand. "My badge please?"

"Oh. Sorry," he apologised as he handed her badge back, which was promptly pocketed away.

An awkward silence remained in the room as the two occupants sat down next to each other, and did their best to try and formulate a way to begin some kind of conversation without it being _too_ strange. A bit hard to do of course, given how they were essentially on opposing sides.

Bridge, in the awkward ensuing silence, took another good opportunity to glance over at Kat. In the somewhat short period of time since he had met her at the casino's bar area, she had changed out of a beautiful party dress into black military fatigues and a combat vest holding a variety of things. He could see a few power cells for her pistol undoubtedly, a few canisters which he presumed to be flashbangs or smoke grenades (he knew the explosive ones tended to be like mini-soccer balls) and probably a few rations and a water bottle…somewhere.

"So…" Bridge started, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the constant silence. And despite his best efforts, that line of conversation very quickly went sour, and they fell into silence again, only punctuated by the rumble of the ship's engines. "What do we do now?"

Kat shrugged. "Wait, I guess. Don't ask what for."

Silence fell into place after that, and this time, was interrupted after a minute by surprisingly, Kat's yawn. Bridge glimpsed fangs for a second and a half, before finally taking into account that Kat must've been tired.

"Tired?"

"Just a little," Kat yawned again.

"Maybe you should get some rest?" Bridge suggested. "I'll take watch until you wake up."

Kat nodded, but by then, she had already closed her eyes and drifted off into sleep. Nearly a whole day had gone again without her sleep. Bridge also started to feel tired, and like Kat, had spent nearly a whole day without any rest.

_Maybe I'll just close my eyes for a little while_, he told himself.

He did just that, and also like Kat, fell into sleep a few moments later.

**

* * *

**

Time: 0915 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Alternative Information, Newtech City, Earth

The phone rang. "Hello, Alternative Information, how can I help you?"

Within minutes, the phone had been replaced, and a second later, it rang again.

"Hello, Alternative Information, Z speaking. Alright, I'll get it to you as soon as possible. Bye."

It rang again.

"Alternative Information, Z speaking. You want to talk to Jack? He's busy as well. Call back a bit later."

Once more, the phone rang barely a second after it had been put down. With a groan, Z snatched up the receiver for what felt like the thousandth time within fifteen minutes.

"Hello, Alternative Information, Z speaking. I'm a bit busy now, but I'll try to get it to you later. Okay…thanks, bye."

Z sighed as she placed the phone down and turned towards the gathering of information, which she had been attempting to do over the part hour and fifteen minutes, had not the phone been constantly ringing. Already she dreaded the noise of the phone ringing, and knew that another one was coming.

And sure enough, it came, ringing again shrilly and causing her to wince.

"Jack!" she hollered. "You answer the phone!"

"Hold up Z! Someone's calling over the video phone!" Jack shouted back as he walked into the room holding the rarely used video phone.

To his surprise, when he accepted the call, he saw the face of a male, tiger-like Sphinxian staring back.

"Hello?" Jack greeted, slightly put-off by the Sphinxian.

"You must be Jack Landors," the Sphinxian said.

"Yeah, that's me. What's up?"

"My name's Felix-…"

"Wait, hold up. Felix…Felix, Felix, Felix," Jack mumbled to himself, running the name over his memory. He was _sure_ he heard it somewhere before…

Felix sighed, and then the name finally clicked in Jack's head.

"Oh yeah! You're Kat's boyfriend!" Jack triumphantly declared, snapping his fingers together.

"_Ex_-boyfriend," Felix corrected.

"Oh. Umm, yeah, feel sorry for you, losing a girl like that," Jack tried his hardest to sympathise with Felix, who he really didn't know apart from being mentioned in passing by Kat.

"It's alright. We both agreed it was for the best," Felix shrugged. "But I didn't come here to talk about that."

"I guess not, eh? So what do you need?"

"I need Kat's location," Felix sighed. "She's been disappearing off our radar a lot lately, and it's starting to unnerve and unhinge our commander."

"Wait, you're part of Chimera right?"

"Quite obviously," Felix dryly remarked. "And I'm not here to arrest you."

"Jack!" Z shouted from the front office where they dealt with their clients. "Who's that?"

"Kat's boyfriend!"

"_Ex_-boyfriend!" Felix shouted, correcting Jack's mistake again. "Do I have to keep reminding everyone?!"

"So what does he want?" Z shouted back.

"Kat's location!"

"You're saying he's _not_ her boyfriend?"

"I am not!" Felix shouted.

"Then why are you looking for her?" Z asked, deciding that she had enough of the shouting and deciding instead to enter the room.

"Because my commander is getting nervous over her disappearance," Felix explained. "She hasn't reported in for nearly a whole day, and he's getting ready for war."

"So your commander is Kat's girlfriend?" Jack asked, confused.

"What makes you suggest that?"

"Because it sounds like something that someone would do to get their lover back," Jack shrugged.

Felix snorted. "He wishes his coffee-loving ass he was. No, I actually have no idea what the hell he's doing. Just that he wants Kat's location."

"Well," Jack rubbed his chin. "Last time I remember, Kat probably was headed for the MaxStar Casino over Austruss III. But given how much she moves around, she's probably long gone by now…so I have no idea."

Felix sighed in disappointment. "I suppose that is to be expected. Thank you for the help."

"Not a problem," Jack waved as the screen blinked off. He turned to Z, who was glaring at him. "What?"

"Back to work!" she growled, and then proceeded to stomp off to the waiting client. "And answer the damned phone while you're at it!"

* * *

**Time: 0903 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Unknown Room aboard Valda Kintopp's frigate**

If anything, Kat enjoyed a good catnap. Waking up from sleep meant that she felt a bit more refreshed and even more so if she had a hot shower following, and that she was also alert.

This time, she woke up to a bit of a shock: sleeping next to her was the S.P.D. agent, and during sleep, she had somehow managed to end up snuggling into his chest, and the agent in his sleep had somehow managed to entwine his arms around her waist.

At the same, Bridge woke up from his sleep, and much to his shock, discovered that he had ended up hugging the Chimera agent around the waist and that she was snuggled into his chest.

Their eyes met at the same time, and conveyed the same amount of shock. The two of them instantly leapt to their feet away from each other, and pointed an accusing finger at each other.

"What did you do?!" they both demanded at the same time.

"Nothing! What did _you_ do?" Bridge accused.

"I did nothing as well! You were meant to keep watch!" Kat retorted.

"I was tired as well! You didn't end up fighting three robotic ninjas and flying against a shuttle and two fighters trying to shoot you down!"

"Well, you could have told me you were tired as well!"

Both of them now were breathing hard, glaring at each other with all the hate they could muster, which wasn't much. They sat down again opposite to each other, and resumed staring at each other, before Bridge finally had enough.

"Truce?" he offered, reaching across the short distance between them and holding out his hand.

"Fine," Kat accepted, shaking his hand.

Bridge got up after Kat had released his hand, and moved across to sit next to her.

"What?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

"Feeling a bit lonely."

"I was right across from you," Kat said, raising her brow.

Bridge shrugged again. "You know, I think I'm a really lucky guy."

"Why?"

"Because at least three…wait, lemme count…hmm, the bar, the Nomadic Eyes leader, onboard a shuttle, the battle on Soletu Zeta, the guards at MaxStar Casino…six times I've almost been killed recently, and every single time someone has done something that saved my ass. You know," Bridge said, looking up at the ceiling as Kat did her best to avoid blushing. "If I knew who it was, I'd probably go right up to them and give them a kiss straight on the lips, if it was a girl: if it was a guy, probably a big hug."

"Really?" Kat asked.

"Yeah. Why? Do you know who?" Bridge asked, turning to look at Kat who was starting to fidget slightly.

"Yeah, I do in fact."

"Who?" Bridge eagerly asked.

"Me."

Bridge's jaw dropped. "You?"

"Yeah," Kat shrugged. "I always seemed to arrive after you to find you in a little spot of difficulty. Maybe I was just at the right place at the right time for you."

"Oh…"

"And don't even think about it," Kat warned.

"Okay, I won't!" Bridge said, raising his hands in surrender. "I was just going to say thank you and give you a hug instead of a kiss."

"It's alright," Kat said, feeling a bit awkward.

Another silence drifted in again as they sat side by side. Both of them had never really given a thought about how awkward it would've been if they had been caught in such a situation, and they were regretting it.

"Any idea why we can't socialise now like we did in the bar of that casino?" Bridge asked suddenly.

Kat shrugged. "Maybe because you didn't know I was a Chimera agent?"

"Maybe."

For the umpteenth time, the tension and awkwardness of the moment settled into the room again, and finally, Bridge decided that he had enough.

"Alright, that's it!" he said, getting to his feet.

"What?" Kat asked, slowly rising.

"I'm sick of staying here all day. I'm heading out there to find Valda, and then I'm going to kick his butt."

"Then I'm going with you: you'll probably need the help, not to mention when I might have to save you _again_," Kat said with a roll of her eyes.

With agreement between them, Bridge and Kat headed for the exit of the room, and as quietly as they could, crept out. And within moments, they had run into a Krybot patrol.

"Krybots!" Bridge yelled, yanking out his pistol and instantly firing. He was joined two seconds later by Kat, who had also removed her own pistol from its holster, and proceeded to reduce the patrol to scrap metal.

"Well, that was easy," Kat remarked.

And as if summoned by her statement, another patrol of Krybots appeared from the intersection of halls ahead, and wasted no time in filling the hall with lasers. Kat and Bridge quickly hurled themselves behind anything that could block a laser, and in this case, it was a metal support column just barely wide enough to fit them both.

"You had to jinx it, didn't you?" Bridge asked, taking a peek from behind the column. A laser lashed by, nearly taking his head off. Bridge instantly drew his head back, narrowly avoiding a second laser that passed by where his head was moments ago. "Phew, that was close."

"Keep your head back," Kat snapped over the sound of lasers pounding the column.

"It'll be a miracle if they don't collapse this whole section of the ship," Bridge commented as he knew the metal was being worn away with every laser impact.

"It'll be a miracle if we get out of this unscathed," Kat said. "Got a grenade? One that goes _boom_ preferably," she added.

"Hey, does it _look_ like I carry explosives in this suit?" it was Bridge's turn to snap at Kat. "And how do you carry weapons in that dress of yours?"

"I don't. And good point," Kat said. "Alright, cover me: I'm going out there, and make sure not to hit me: if your shot didn't kill me there and then, I'll kill you when I get back."

"Wait, what?" Bridge asked as Kat tossed him her pistol. He just caught it as Kat bolted around the column. "Aw hell, you're crazy!"

Still, crazy or not, Kat wouldn't survive out there with at least ten lasers pointed at her, and conscious of this fact, Bridge whipped around, both pistols held in both hands. He dropped to one knee, and in a very Matrix-style fashion, proceeded to start sending his own lasers one after another from alternating pistols down at the Krybots as Kat ran at them.

His lasers struck the pair of Krybots at the front, spinning them backwards as he continued to shoot, drawing their attention away from Kat. His second barrage wiped out another Krybot, putting so many lasers into its chest that it was all but written-off, and as it fell, all the remaining Krybots proceeded to shoot at Bridge, who in turn quickly spun back into cover, just as Kat covered the final two metres, and leapt into the fray.

One of the Krybots shooting at Bridge's position looked up to see Kat taking a flying leap through the air, before landing a solid kick to its face. The Krybot was nearly thrown back as the force of the attack lifted up into the air for a few short moments, before the laws of artificial gravity took over and sent it plummeting into the floor. The others stopped shooting, and upon seeing Kat, proceeded to revert to their close-combat programming. But by then, Kat had already swept another two Krybots down, even as the others closed the already short distance between them. With expert precision and experience, Kat took apart another two Krybots with kicks, strikes and punches, landing in a crouching position before the remaining two actually took positions on either side of her, and prepared to fire, much to Kat's disbelief. She was going to be killed by a pair of _Krybots_. This was almost too embarrassing, if her life wasn't on the life and hanging in the balance.

Two shots sped out, and the two Krybots on either side of her crumpled to the ground, a neat hole in their chests as Bridge stood up, the two pistols still smoking, again, much to Kat's disbelief and heartfelt relief.

"Does this make us even?" Bridge asked as he walked over and helped Kat to her feet among the ruins of multiple Krybots.

"Not quite yet, but thank you anyway," Kat replied, accepting her pistol back. "Let's get going."

"Hey, I thought I was leading!" Bridge protested as he followed Kat to another part of the ship.

* * *

**Time: 1002 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Fourth automated security checkpoint, Valda Kintopp's frigate**

The twin automated and automatic laser rifles mounted on tripods were showering the two agents with sparks as they fought their way through yet another paranoid security measure installed by Valda Kintopp. The remaining Krybots who had been manning the checkpoint were now in the process of retreating from the two agents, before Bridge grabbed one of the deactivated automated guns, and spun it around on its tripod. He targeted the retreating Krybots, and then proceeded to gun them down, his teeth clattering with the considerable recoil the laser gun somehow emitted.

"Damn things: I hate these automated guns," Bridge mumbled as he kicked the gun he had just finished using down. The other automated gun was also on its side.

"I'm going to ignore the irony of the statement," Kat said, as she observed the destruction at the checkpoint: two dozen Krybots lay ruined and mangled.

"Let's keep moving before Valda has a chance to abandon ship," Bridge said, pushing himself up and over the waist high blocks of metal crates that served as a barricade as Kat followed.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" she questioned as they turned a corner carefully.

"Do you think we should head to the engines first? Shut them down and plant a tracking device?" Bridge asked, stopping and turning back to look at Kat.

"Alright," she decided. "We'll do that first."

Following the conveniently painted arrows on the floor, Kat and Bridge proceeded to the engines.

* * *

**Time: 1046 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Bridge of the SPDS _Pegasus_, rendezvousing with SPDS _Dauntless_ and _Orion_**

Captain Accera looked around the bridge of the SPDS _Pegasus_ as the crew scurried around, organising things even as the SPDS _Dauntless_ and _Orion_ slowly moved into position before they could set off in search of the lost S.P.D. agent.

"Captain Belidor and Gorblchet, are you ready yet? I'm sure that the agent is going to be slowly torn apart unless we find him soon," Accera said.

"Hold your horses, Captain. We're almost ready," Captain Belidor of the _Dauntless_ calmly said.

The two other frigates were in the process of confirming that their systems were fully functional after a jump in between separate systems. Three-quarters of the checklist had been completed, and they were set to be finished in another minute and a half.

"Keep scanning for any clues as to Agent Carson's whereabouts," Captain Accera ordered, sighing as they waited agonising seconds for the checklists to be completed.

What he didn't expect however, was the communications officer's sudden shout.

"Sir, I've got a lock on a tracking beacon! One of ours!" he shouted.

"Track it!" Captain Accera ordered and in no time, the officer was hammering away at the keys. "Gently, Lt. Leyton!"

"It's stopped near the edge of the Austruss system, sir! The code has been identified as Agent Carson's frequency!"

"Very good! Captains Belidor, Gorblchet, would you please hurry up? We've got a lock on Agent Carson's position, and if we leave now, we might just be able to catch him!"

"Very well Captain Accera. We've completed our checklists, and are now forming up on your flank," Captain Gorblchet replied, even as the SPDS _Dauntless_ and _Orion_ completed a triangular formation with the _Pegasus_ out in front.

The three frigates fired up their engines, and with the rescue of Agent Carson in mind, sped off.

* * *

**Time: 1042 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Bridge of Valda Kintopp's frigate, edge of Austruss System**

"Ugh…my head…" Bridge groaned as he slowly regained consciousness.

He opened his eyes carefully, and didn't like what he saw: about ten heavily armed soldiers in full body amour and helmets standing straight as statues as other people very carefully stepped past and around the pair of agents tied on the floor.

"Hey, Kat!" he whispered, noticing that Kat was also tied up and unconscious next to him. "Kat!"

The feline agent slowly began stirring as she slowly opened her eyes to see the same unpleasant sight Bridge was seeing.

"Wha? What happened?" she asked, her head still pounding.

"We were captured, remember?" Bridge asked, as she looked at him. "Do you remember anything?"

"That you're Bridge Carson, I'm Kat, I've got an arrogant commander who keeps hitting on me, and that we're on Valda's ship. I remember everything except when we left for the engine room," Kat said.

"We managed to disable the engines, I hid a tracking device in the room, and then you were knocked out and I followed."

"Bastards," Kat grunted, her memory flooding back, struggling against her bonds. She never liked being tied up.

"Well well well, what do we have here?" a voice said, causing Bridge and Kat to look up to see Valda Kintopp enter the bridge, a pair of soldiers flanking him. "Two of the most infamous agents caught in my grasp."

"What do you want?" Bridge demanded.

"Me? Simple," Valda laughed. "The two of you, deader than a dodo."

Kat and Bridge exchanged glances as Valda laughed his guts out. Everyone else in the bridge had fallen into silence, and the dozen elite soldiers remained stoic as Valda finally stopped, though he still let out the occasional chuckle.

"Imagine, the two most infamous agents in the galaxy: Bridge Carson, and Kat Manx, dead by my hands! I'll be a superstar in the underworld of crime!" Valda laughed again, and then he pulled out a broken data disc. "And when my employer gets this, I'll be an even richer man!"

"How did you know my name?!" Kat demanded. Her identity had been kept one of Chimera's best kept secrets and getting it was one hell of a job.

"I have many, many friends in high places," Valda grinned, before breaking down into spontaneous fits of maniacal laughter, nearly doubling over and sliding the broken data disc into his pocket.

"At least he's got the megalomaniacal thing going well," Bridge whispered to Kat, who did her best to suppress a chuckle despite their dire circumstances as Valda straightened up.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to kill you two now. It's a shame really," Valda said, crouching a little to look Kat in the face. "Hard to kill someone so pretty."

"Not you as well," Kat groaned as Valda stood up, making a very small difference to when he was crouching down. "Kill me now."

"I think he's gonna do that in a second, starting with me," Bridge answered, as Valda grabbed a laser rifle from one of his guards.

"So long agent. Would've liked to know you better, can't wait to see you dead," Valda said, directing his comments at Kat and Bridge respectively.

He raised the rifle, took aim and placed his finger over the trigger and fired…just as the ship rocked violently from an impact.

The impact and the subsequent rocking sent most of the people standing up to the floor and also knocked Valda's aim off, and the laser instead somehow managed to sear through Bridge's restraints when the S.P.D. agent had rolled last minute. The restraints fell away, much to Bridge's surprise, and he stood up, before the ship rocked again, and sent him crashing to the floor.

"Damn it Bridge, get me out of these things!" Kat shouted as Bridge tried to crawl back to her.

"Damn you agent!" Valda screamed at the same time, as the rocking had also sent the laser rifle flying out of his hands.

Bridge scrambled to undo Kat's restraints, and after a few moments tinkering, they fell off.

"Thanks," Kat said, rubbing her wrists and standing up.

"Watch out!" Bridge shouted, tackling Kat to the ground as a pair of soldiers fired.

They landed in on the ground, and the lasers flew over as the ship rocked again.

"Almost even," Kat said, as Bridge scrabbled off her.

They got up, and as Bridge went after Valda, Kat got to work with the dozen elite soldiers around the bridge. She punched one in the face, and then brought her elbow down on his back, sending the soldier face first into the floor. She flipped over him, and landed in a group of four. She swept them all off their feet with a simple sweeping kick, and then shot another in the leg with her pistol. The soldier screamed in pain as another grabbed her leg, and tried to flip her into the ground.

Instead, Kat cartwheeled across the small space and landed in front of a support column. She used her remaining momentum to run up the column and flip off, landing behind a pair that had chased her, who skidded to a halt as Kat grabbed the back of their uniforms, and slammed them against the wall.

"Sorry, try using your head!" Kat said, yanking the dazed soldiers back until they were standing on either side of her, and then flinging her arms out, striking both at the base of their neck and knocking them onto the ground and out.

Meanwhile, Bridge chased the little madman as he scooted around the bridge, the bridge crew screaming and scrambling as they dodged out of Bridge or Valda's way, and bolting for the door.

"Come here damn it!" Bridge yelled, yanking out his pistol and vaulting over one of the consoles even as the intercom was hijacked.

"Attention unknown frigate! This is the SPDS _Pegasus_! You are surrounded by three S.P.D. vessels! We have detected an S.P.D. tracking beacon in your ship, and if our agent is not transferred back safely, we will board the ship!" the voice of Captain Accera boomed

Bridge ignored the voice and vaulted over another console just as Valda rounded the corner. Still in the air, Bridge pulled off a roundhouse kick in midair and landed the blow straight across Valda's head.

"Oof!" the madman yelped as he was sent flying into a support column.

He cracked his head against the column and fell unconscious as Bridge quickly moved over and took the data disc from Valda's pocket.

"I'll take this," he told the unconscious villain.

Bridge pocketed the disc and looked over to see Kat execute a magnificent flip before planting a solid kick against the sole remaining soldier's chest, sending the unfortunate man flying among the eleven others Kat had incapacitated.

One of the soldiers lying on the ground rose shakily, and pointed his rifle at Kat's back. Before he could shoot, Bridge raised his pistol and quickly shot the rifle out of his hands. Kat, for her part, simply kicked the man in the face again, and cracked the helmet as well as putting him into unconsciousness.

"Thanks again," Kat said as Bridge walked over.

"Any time. What now?"

Before Kat could say anything, the door leading to the bridge which had been closed exploded outwards, causing both agents to flinch slightly as fragments flew past them and a team of S.W.A.T.-armoured Rangers with Delta Enforcers stormed the room.

"Clear!" the Red Ranger shouted before facing Bridge. "Sir!"

"Thanks for the 'rescue'," Bridge said.

"Who's she?" the Blue Ranger demanded, raising his Enforcer at Kat.

"Katherine Manx, Chimera," she said, displaying her badge.

"She's with me by the way," Bridge said.

"…we'll escort her back to ship, where we'll take her to a rendezvous point with Chimera," the Red Ranger announced, touching the headset on his helmet.

Kat nodded and turned to Bridge.

"It was nice work with you," she said, holding out her hand.

"My pleasure," Bridge said as he pulled Kat into a surprise hug.

"Keep the data disc, and you still owe me," Kat said with a grin as Bridge released her, before walking out of the bridge to the waiting Yellow and Pink Rangers who were assigned escort duty. "See you around sometime."


	13. Is just the Beginning!

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: Big thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter, you're awesome, I love ya all, and I updated! Well, me being the overly obsessive planner I am, I have worked out a sort of 'schedule' for this story. You know how I said I wanted to get it done before next year starts? Well, guess what? If you're nice enough this and next chapter, there'll be two updates next week! Yup, two.

Yes, I know we didn't get any Sky or Cruger last chapter, so please bear with me! We'll be seeing them again this chapter, and also to a few new faces! Thanks to BB again for beta-ing again. Read, enjoy and review! In that order preferably!

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

"_Did life return to normal after the recovery of the data disc?" _

"_Oh yes, it did: it just depends on your definition of 'normal'. Any other person would have said that life went crazy."_

_Bridge Carson, being interviewed on subject of recently declassified files of the EyeNet Incident _

* * *

**Time: 1302 hours, galactic standard time, two weeks later / Location: Abandoned warehouse in Aliba District, Akeih, capital city of Akaih VIII**

"Agent Carson, reporting in. I have a positive ID on the package, and I'm in position."

"Copy Bridge. Stay put till we get into position."

"Roger. Awaiting your go."

The link clicked off, and Sky Tate's only communication line to Bridge was now off. He silently motioned the team of Rangers behind him to move forward with his left hand, as his right hand was currently busy grasping a standard-issue Delta Enforcer. The S.P.D. Co-Commander was dressed in a black version of the Ranger's suit, and had all the functionality of it, plus a few bonuses such as improved communications and better armour: after all, it would put a serious dent in S.P.D. if their Co-Commander was killed.

Meanwhile, Bridge remained crouched on a very wide catwalk overlooking the wide room. Hidden in the shadows, he watched as the group of people stood in the middle, unaware of the S.P.D. hammer about to fall on them. A group of ten black-clad commandos stood guard, holding laser weapons and watching all the entrances, also unaware that their job was rendered useless as Bridge was already inside.

Right now, the S.P.D. agent was about to finish up his third case in two weeks: cracking and dismantling a smuggling ring of illegal weapons and drugs that had taken up residence in the notorious Aliba District of Akeih, capital city of Akaih VIII.

_Even nice places had their notorious parts_, Bridge mused to himself as he watched the transfer unfold. A group of boxes, almost certainly the material intending to be transferred, sat in the middle of the warehouse as the people argued over a number of things: price, condition and whatnot. Bridge didn't really care: smugglers were smugglers, and it was his job to stop them.

"007 to T, do you copy?" Bridge whispered.

"What kind of code is that?" Sky asked back over the comm.

"I like it. Anyway, are you in position?"

"Give us another thirty seconds," Sky answered. "Keep us informed."

"Will do. Hurry up guys, I think they're starting to leave," Bridge said.

"Copy that."

As Bridge waited for Sky and his team of Rangers to reach the side entrance, he noticed that the people below were starting to shake hands and smile: a clear sign that the deal was done.

"Shit!" he swore out loud, and instantly, everyone's attention turned to the corner where he now stood. "Umm…good afternoon?"

Ten laser rifles shot up in Bridge's direction, as the holders of the weapons waited for the signal to shoot.

"S.P.D., all of you are under arrest!" Bridge shouted in hopes of stunning them into inaction by the weight of the potential impact of shooting at an S.P.D. agent.

"Kill him!" one of the people in the middle screeched, obviously unfazed by the potential risks of attacking S.P.D. personnel.

Lasers spat from the rifles, as Bridge hurled himself further down the catwalk to avoid the lasers which began to track him as he bolted down the catwalk.

"Sky, I could really do with some help right now!" Bridge shouted as he hunkered down behind a group of boxes that were placed on the catwalk, drawing his pistol and returning fire.

"We're inside the compound Bridge. Hold out for another thirty seconds!" Sky shouted back as he and the Rangers ran to help Bridge.

"Hurry up!" Bridge shouted, before noticing that one of the commandos was starting to climb up the ladder to the catwalk. He blasted the person off the ladder, sending him crashing to the ground below.

The door to the place where he was battling suddenly exploded open, and in stormed half a dozen armed and armoured S.P.D. Rangers.

"More S.P.D.!" one person in the group screeched again. "We've got to get out of here!"

"Freeze!" Sky shouted, even as half of the commandos turned their attention to the new arrivals.

They were no match for the highly-trained S.P.D. Rangers however, and the S.W.A.T. armour allowed the Rangers to take hits without being seriously injured. The result was that the S.P.D. force quickly and efficiently swept aside the opposition, and took into custody the group of smugglers and any wounded commandos.

"Bridge?" Sky called out once the fighting had stopped. All the apprehended people were now sitting down in a group in the middle of the room guarded by three Rangers, while the other two searched through the containers.

"It's about time!" Bridge said, rising from the pitted and battered containers that he had been using as cover.

"You alright?"

"I'm good. You got them all?" he asked, walking to the catwalk's ladder and climbing down it.

"Yup. We're containing these guys, blowing this stockpile and then headed back to base," Sky said, pulling off his helmet.

"Great. This makes it the…what…third successful raid in two weeks?"

"Yeah. Great job," Sky congratulated.

"No small thanks to you as well," Bridge said, watching the Green and Yellow Rangers wire explosives to the stockpile.

"Done sir!" the Green Ranger announced. "The fuse is set to this detonator."

"Alright, let's move people!" Sky shouted.

"Let's go," the Red Ranger said, lifting several people onto their feet as the Pink and Blue Rangers did the same.

"Commander, this is Tate. We've secured the package, and explosives are set. We'll be back to base in ten."

"Roger that. Patch me through to Bridge," Cruger's no-nonsense voice ordered.

"Sir?" Bridge asked as he came up to the waiting Rangers, a hand on the headset he kept on him, but actually rarely wore.

"Are you tired Bridge?" Cruger asked, seemingly randomly.

"Uh, no sir…"

"Good. I need you to handle this case, and I can't trust anyone else to get it done," Cruger said.

"What is it?" Bridge asked, as an S.P.D. dropship slowly descended as the agent approached it.

"You should know that The Assassin is still our number one wanted."

"Yeah. We've been tracking him for like nearly…two years now?"

"Correct. And for two years we've failed to apprehend him. But now, we've got confirmation that he's on Akaih VIII, and more importantly, only a few kilometres from your position, in the Axhome district," Cruger said.

"And you want me to take him in?"

"Yes. I'm authorising lethal force Bridge, if necessary. Be careful. Cruger out."

The link was cut, and Bridge stood still for a moment, before hurriedly stuffing the collapsible headset into his pocket.

"Hey Bridge, you coming or not?" Sky shouted over the roar of the dropship's engines from the open bays of the said dropship.

"Not this time Sky! New assignment!" Bridge shouted back.

Sky nodded. "Good luck!" the co-commander shouted as he slid close the dropship's bay doors.

With a final whine, the dropship lifted off, and blasted off for the heavens, better known to S.P.D. cadets and Rangers as the S.P.D. Central HQ in orbit.

Whistling an indistinct tune to himself, Bridge decided to double time it to the Axhome district. Fittingly enough, it was an old, mostly abandoned industrial district crammed full with obsolete factories and warehouses: many which now just little more than giant storage areas for the unwanted stuff. This of course, meant that he had more places to hide from The Assassin. Unfortunately, it also meant that The Assassin had more places to hide. And with his signature sniper rifle that he used to eliminate his targets, that meant that Bridge was disadvantaged: unless he could close to within fifty metres of The Assassin's position, the pistol he carried was largely useless.

He sighed. "No rest for the weary…or was it wicked? Either way, no rest for me," Bridge shrugged.

* * *

**Time: 1316 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Axhome District, Akeih**

If Bridge had to describe the general appearance of the Axhome District, he would've just simply said it was a complete dump. Which in all honesty, it was.

Glancing around, Bridge saw that a number of signs had been bolted to posts, and were stuck everywhere. He walked over to one that had large red writing on it, placed next to a red cargo container, and looked at the sign: 'Leave or Die'.

"Looks like I'm in the right place…" Bridge mumbled to himself. Seemed fitting that The Assassin should slap signs all over his hideout to warn/scare people.

Then out of nowhere, a laser flew through the air, and slammed against the cargo container next to him. Instinct took over as Bridge hurled himself against another cargo container opposite to the sign, and hopefully one that blocked the shooter's view of him. He drew his pistol, and was trying to discern a way to peek out from the side of the container without getting his head shot off when his portable headset buzzed.

Fumbling around with the flimsy headset with only one hand (the other was still clutching his pistol which he was reluctant to let go of for security reasons), Bridge at last managed to open it and pulled it on the right way.

"Yeah?"

"I must applaud you for your quick reflexes, Ranger," a sinister voice spoke. "Few victims could react so fast."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm no Ranger," Bridge said, glancing around carefully.

"Really? Makes no difference either way: you're still the wrong way. Nice badge by the way: it'll be mine pretty soon," the voice laughed, cutting the link as realisation dawned on Bridge.

If he was supposedly hidden from view from the first shot, but could still see his badge, which he had clipped to the back of his S.P.D. jacket simply because he was running late before and simply just clipped it on before throwing the jacket on, that meant that…

Bridge instantly hurled himself to the left, moments before a laser struck the metal where his head was. Cursing, Bridge ducked behind another pile of scrap things, narrowly dodging a pair of shots that came within centimetres of hitting him.

Then another laser flashed by, and Bridge cursed again as he realised that the first shot when he had been at the sign was probably from an automated gun which was now firing on him. Finally finding a place that hopefully shielded him from both the automated gun and The Assassin, which was inside a large metal tube, Bridge contemplated his course of action.

First things first…the automated gun had to go. While nowhere near as deadly as The Assassin mostly because they weren't particularly well known for their accuracy, it was annoying enough to distract him. Luckily enough, he had brought along an EMP grenade that Boom had wanted him to test out before putting it into full production as standard equipment.

A quick glance outside and a quick duck back inside to avoid the resulting laser revealed that the automated gun was placed on top of another cargo container, hooked up to a radar array and motion sensor that would guide its fire.

"Okay…show time," Bridge mumbled, yanking out the EMP grenade and looking for the instructions, eventually managing to pull out a small piece of paper. "Press button, hold to activate…yadda yadda…detonates on impact if red button is pressed…"

He pressed and held the red button, and took out a spare grenade, which he made absolutely sure was deactivated. While the chances of the automated gun begin actually able to hit the grenade while it was flying through the air was ridiculously low, he had learned to never take chances. With a mighty heave, Bridge threw the inert grenade out of the tube and into the sky. The automated gun instantly tracked the grenade, and didn't notice as Bridge poked his head out, and chucked the EMP grenade at the gun.

To his amazement, the grenade flew up and hit the gun, where it exploded with a bright flash, throwing blue sparks everywhere as the automated gun was shut down.

"That's one," he said, looking for any clues as to where The Assassin may have been hiding.

* * *

**Time: 1326 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Second level of storage warehouse, Axhome District**

The Assassin, a tall figure clad completely in black robes and wearing a non-descriptive mask, also coloured black, was crouched next to a blown out section of the wall. While he could've simply used a window, the fact was that he was in no conceivable danger, and the opening in the wall allowed for a greater view of the district.

His signature MTX-42 sniper rifle was resting against his shoulder as he peered down the optical scope, searching for the elusive S.P.D. agent. While the huge number of things lying around the district served to give him plenty of places to hide, any half-smart person would've realised that it also gave them plenty of places to hide as well. No matter: he would eventually find the agent.

Sweeping his vision across the yard, straining for any hint of motion, The Assassin finally found his luck when he caught a flash of a jacket just barely visible from behind a thin sheet of metal. He grinned: the MTX-42 was capable of going through a few centimetres of metal, and with that in mind, he lined up where he predicted the agent's head would be. Settling the sights over the area, he breathed in, held his breath, and pulled the trigger.

A bolt of light lanced out, and blasted a hole in the sheet of metal as the piece of fabric fell away. The hole smoked for a while as he made sure that nothing was still alive, before beginning to stand up. He had a badge to collect.

Before he could move away, bolts of light exploded all around him, throwing a huge shower of sparks all over the place as they struck metal, concrete and glass, creating an enormous racket as glass shattered and lasers exploded. Letting out a terrified curse, The Assassin dropped to the floor and tried to crawl to cover. Quite obviously, _something_ had gone wrong with his plan.

Below, Bridge stood up from the ground, shaking his head to get rid of the grey dust he had dumped on his head to camouflage himself among the dull grey of the district. He patted off more of the dust as he retrieved his jacket, which he had torn the sleeve off and used as bait. He blew on the barrel of his pistol, which was still smoking from the sudden barrage of shots he had fired before running inside the building where The Assassin was hiding.

Inside, he had barely taken another step before a laser struck the ground right next to his foot. Yelping, Bridge leapt behind cover, narrowly avoiding a second shot.

"I must admit agent, you are the hardest prey I have yet to bag," The Assassin shouted from his hiding place. "That neat trick with the bait nearly had me going!"

"Don't you want a prize then? Here, catch!" Bridge shouted, and yanked out another grenade. He whipped around the corner, and tossed it to where he had heard The Assassin's voice.

In an incredible display of coincidence, as the grenade flew, The Assassin was lining Bridge up for the final kill. He pulled the trigger, and the laser struck the grenade, which was less than three metres away. The explosion had enough force to blow The Assassin off his feet and out the window behind him, in apparent slow motion as his limbs flailed around wildly.

Bridge winced as he heard the crunch of The Assassin's body hitting the ground below, and bolted up the stairs until he reached the window that The Assassin was blasted out of. He glanced out, and saw the body lying on the ground, quite dead, before pulling out his headset and pulling it on.

"Commander?" he asked.

"What is it Bridge?" Commander Cruger asked.

"The Assassin has been neutralised: he's dead, accidentally actually," Bridge said.

"…he was too dangerous to let live in any case," Cruger finally said. "Good work Bridge. Contain the body and head to the extraction zone. Cruger out."

Carefully making his way out of the warehouse, avoiding any loose bits of debris and glass as a result of his rather inaccurate barrage of lasers that had scared The Assassin away, Bridge moved to The Assassin's body and pulled out his containment device. While S.P.D. Rangers' morphers acted as very functional and effective containment devices on their own as well as serving a multitude of other functions, agents didn't carry morphers, and as such, were given devices specially designed for the sole purpose of containing suspects, captured criminals…or in this case, dead bodies.

With a simple press of a button, The Assassin's reign of terror in the field of assassination was finally over, and Bridge's grisly job was done.

"Case closed," he said, pocketing the card holding the body.

* * *

**Time: 1052 hours, earlier this morning, galactic standard time / Location: Infirmary aboard Chimera Mobile HQ _Phoenix_**

"Damn bastard nicked me."

"It is your fault for being distracted."

"There were two more guys."

"And?"

"They distracted me."

"You should've been paying more attention then," Felix said as he cleaned and bandaged Kat's wound.

"How much more attention could I have paid? I only have two eyes you know," Kat said.

"And two hypersensitive ears."

"It's hard to hear when two people are shooting at you."

"If you say so. Done," Felix said, finished tying the bandage around Kat's arm.

"Thanks," Kat said, flexing her arm a little. "I'm off now."

"Another assignment?" Felix rolled his eyes. "That was your fourth one already, but now another one?"

"Not really, more like a short break," Kat said with a small grin.

"Good for you. See ya," Felix waved.

Kat waved back as she left the infirmary for her small holiday.

* * *

**Time: 1405 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Ceremony Hall, S.P.D. Central HQ, in orbit over Akaih VIII**

"Bridge Carson."

As soon as he heard his name called out, Bridge swallowed very nervously and stepped forward from a line of S.P.D. cadets and officers.

The Ceremony Hall, a long, very decorated expanse of space with a large stage upfront and numerous seats capable of seating virtually everyone in the entire HQ was almost completely full as everyone who was available packed in to see the award ceremony.

'Awards for outstanding displays of dedication, heroism and trustworthiness etcetera, etcetera' was how Cruger had put it, even with the etceteras.

Commander Cruger, Co-Commander Sky Tate and a number of other high-ranking S.P.D. officials were on the stage as Bridge stepped forward, making very sure that he was walking out of the path of the multitudes of wires and also walking in a way that would ensure he didn't fall. After all, the last thing he wanted was to look like an idiot tripping on the wires or worse, his own two feet.

After an uneventful walk to the stage, he stopped in front of Commander Cruger.

"For your retrieval of a vitally important item, assistance of the Soletuan Armed Forces in the defeat of the Castillo Frontier and most recently, the capture of the intergalactic infamous assassin, The Assassin-…"

A gasp went around the Hall as the people registered the capture of one of S.P.D.'s most wanted.

"…we award you with S.P.D.'s highest honour, the Medallion of Sirius."

Clapping resounded through the hall as Cruger pinned a large, golden medal in the shape of a dog's head to Bridge's ceremony jacket.

* * *

Half an hour later, the ceremony was complete, and Bridge was looking around, feeling particularly bored.

"Carson!"

At the sound of his name being called, Bridge turned to see the tall figure of Commander Cruger walking towards him.

"Sir?"

"Carson, you need a break, which is why I'm giving you one, right now," Cruger said.

Bridge looked confused.

"Go have a holiday somewhere for a few days. We'll be expecting you back in three days, and that's an order!" Cruger said.

"Yes sir!" Bridge snapped to attention and saluted.

"Well?"

"Well what sir?"

"Go!"

Bridge hurriedly scrambled to get away from a potentially angry Cruger and headed to his room for a change of clothes before going to the shuttle bay.

* * *

**Time: 1525 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Tavern Bay Café, Downtown of Akeih**

"Finally," Bridge said as he sunk down into the plastic chair in the warm sun.

There were exactly three reasons why he had said finally: one, because he had finally gotten a spot outside, two, because he was finally getting a break, and three, he could finally relax.

A waitress came by and politely asked him for his order. Not hungry, Bridge decided to just go with a drink: it was still hot outside, and Akeih was well-renowned for its hot climate, making it a favourite for those species who required sunlight or heat.

His drink came, and he drank, until he heard someone who laughed suspiciously like Kat. He turned around, and saw that it was Kat who was laughing, walking over to a spare table with a young man in tow. As he watched, the two received their drinks and continued talking. For once, Kat wasn't in any sort of uniform: instead, she dressed normally, with a shirt and a skirt. The man's phone rang, and he got up, apologised and walked away for a while.

Bridge saw the opportunity, and he took it. He wandered over to Kat's table, his drink nearly forgotten.

"Hi Kat."

Kat looked up in surprise as she saw Bridge. "Hey you. Fancy seeing you here."

"I was about to say the same thing," Bridge said. "Except that it's stranger that you've got a person clinging onto you."

"Oh, him? Don't mind him," Kat said with a grin. "Don't tell me you're jealous?"

"I find it strange that every time we meet, you're always on an assignment, and now you've got some guy. Why aren't you on another assignment?" Bridge asked.

"Who said that picking up a guy is not my assignment?" Kat asked with a sly grin.

"Whatever."

A few seconds later, his communicator beeped. With a frustrated sigh he flipped it open.

"Yeah?" he asked, slightly annoyed.

"Bridge, get your ass back here! We're under attack!" Sky's voice shouted, before an explosion went off in the background, followed by screaming, shouting and shooting: the three S's of war.

"See ya later," Bridge mumbled to Kat before shooting off, and then running back to drop a few credits for his drink and then bolting off for the shuttle as Kat looked on. If he had stayed a bit longer, he would've noticed that her eyes displayed hurt for the briefest of moments before her companion returned with a loud 'I'm baacck!'

* * *

**Time: 1505 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Command and Control Centre, S.P.D. Central HQ in orbit over Akaih VIII**

Commander Cruger paced around the blue-lit Command and Control Centre (often referred to by everyone around the HQ as Triple C), keeping an ear out for anything out of the ordinary.

Officers manned the various stations around the room, and a semi-constant stream of people poured in and out of the room, bringing reports, requests and forms, or even coffee for the odd coffee-craver in the room. A low murmur nearly always permeated the room, partially due to the nature of the work and partially due to the nature of people to gossip: Cruger could never understand _that_ particular aspect. The sounds of keys being clicked, buttons pressed and switches flicked echoed slightly, as did the sound of boots hitting the floor.

Cruger made one more pace around the room before settling into his desk at the end of the room, opposite to the doors and in a position to see everything in the Command and Control Centre. He looked down, and nearly groaned out loud as he saw the stack of reports needing his attention.

Beginning to sign them off, he had barely gotten through a third of them before an officer listened to his headphones, his eyes widening before tearing them off and all but sprinting for his desk.

"Commander Cruger sir!" the officer said, snapping to attention.

"What is it?" he growled, looking up from the reports.

"Supreme Commander Fowler has just called in: he's making a visit today!"

"What?!" Cruger nearly yelped, and nearly jumping out of his seat as he did so.

"Supreme Commander Fowler is—…"

"I know that! You just told me! Why is he making a visit today?!"

"He didn't say sir."

"Alright…make a note of his impending arrival to my aide, and I'll take care of it after I finish these…"

"But sir, he's arriving within half an hour!" the officer informed him.

Cruger nearly fell out of his chair in shock.

"What?!"

"Sir, I—…"

"No, that's enough, thank you, back to your post," Cruger said, before glancing around and seeing everybody else staring at him. "That goes for all of you!" he roared.

Everyone instantly scrambled back to their posts, hastily ignoring the conversation that Cruger just had as the Commander tried to steady his breathing.

"Okay…breathe, start thinking…there must be a way out of this mess," Cruger mumbled to himself. "Alright, listen up!"

Everyone in the Triple C stopped moving, talking and doing whatever they had been doing to look at the Commander.

"Supreme Commander Fowler is on his way to S.P.D. Central HQ, and will be arriving within half an hour. I want, or rather, he wants, a full welcoming committee. Get every cadet and officer who isn't vital to the running of this station into their dress uniforms and down to the shuttle bay within twenty minutes, organise a banner or three, clean the place up…and it needed to be done yesterday! Move it people, move it!"

_

* * *

_

Half an hour later…

The large shuttle with the S.P.D. symbol and letters emblazoned on its side slowly passed through the airlock shield lest it break the shield and kill everybody in the bay through suffocation and exposure to vacuum, and hovered over one of the landing slots. It gracefully descended, and after a brief moment of hissing noises, the ramp slowly lowered in a dramatic way, complete with smoke.

Out of the cloud strode a tall bird-like person, feathered hands clasped behind his back as he glanced over at the rows of cadets and officers arranged throughout the bay. Commander Cruger and his Co-Commander stood in front of him, between the two front rows of cadets and officers.

"Attention!" the call was accompanied by dozens, if not hundreds of pairs of feet snapping together and their accompanying dozens/hundreds of arms snapping off the S.P.D. salute.

Supreme Commander Birdie Fowler ignored the rows of impressive cadets and officers, and stood in front of the Commander and his Co-Commander.

"Welcome, Supreme Commander Fowler to S.P.D. Central HQ," Cruger greeted.

"At ease everyone," Fowler said in his usual dull tone. "You may return to your posts. Cruger, and your Co-Commander, I need to speak with you alone. We'll discuss it in your command centre."

* * *

"I am not happy Cruger."

Supreme Commander Fowler skipped straight to the point the instant they were inside the Triple C and had shooed all the other officers out. Neither Sky nor Cruger was inclined to ask him why.

"First of all, a few months back you lost two Rangers to a _militia_ group," Fowler said, placing untold amounts of stress on the word 'militia'. "And then, before that, this HQ was raided by the same group, who managed to penetrate your security measures and steal the third part of that data disc! And you know how important that disc is!"

Fowler walked around to Cruger's desk, and sat down at his chair without asking.

"And it has taken you from then until now to get that disc back, despite having your best agent at the case!"

"There were complications to the matter," Cruger said. "Agent Carson did his best to overcome those matters."

"On the subject of Agent Carson, do you know the number of times that he had to be saved?! Nearly six times did a Chimera agent have to pull him out of the fire! A Chimera agent!"

"Supreme Commander, sir, Bridge is the best we have, and—…"

"I didn't ask for your opinion, Co-Commander! This is nearly a disgrace Cruger! Losses, lax security measures, top agents needing to be saved…what is going on Cruger? Answer me that, what's happening? Why is your staff so lax?"

At that moment, a klaxon began to blare, and red emergency lights flashed, bathing the Command and Control Centre in red light.

"And what alarm is that?!"

"I am going to find out now sir," Cruger said. "Sky, get everyone to battle stations!"

"Cruger, answer me!" Fowler warned.

"Sir, I think it would a wise idea if you would go down to the secure room," Cruger said, even as the officers who normally manned the stations in the Triple C flooded back in.

"Sir, we're under attack!" one of the officers manning the scanning station yelled, before the room rocked from an impact.


	14. Assignment Bridge

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: Yes! Kat Manx finally has her own, long deserved character filter! And at last, this has two character filters! So now there isn't any excuse for not putting Kat Manx in the character filter if the story is about her!

Leaving the issues of character filters behind, I personally think that this is one of the more insane/weirder chapters yet. Reason? Name one other chapter that involves Bridge, Kat, Sky, Cruger and Birdie in it, Bridge and Kat fighting and that features pirates. Yes, you heard me, pirates. As in 'Argh me hearties!' pirates. Thought so. And remember, ninjas aren't quite nearly as insane as pirates.

Thanks to BB for beta-ing again, and who probably will be for the rest of this fic. Remember to read, enjoy and review! And I hope you enjoyed having two updates in a week! And next week will have only one update, but that only gives you more time to review ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

'_Welcome to Sorberus II, home to at least one factory from ninety percent of the galaxy's leading manufacturers!'_

'_Sorberus II is known for its many privatised factories. That and enough pollution to make even your toughest Troobian warrior go green.'_

_Statements about Sorberus II from a travel brochure and official report from the Galactic Association for Pollution Levels. _

* * *

**Time: 1539 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Command and Control Centre, S.P.D. Central HQ**

"What the hell just hit us?" Cruger demanded as the room rocked after Fowler had left for the secure room with a third of the Command and Control Centre's defence force.

"Pirate warship sir! It looks like a frigate!" the officer standing at the scanning station shouted. "It's firing!"

"Well, order all defence gunners that they are to fire at will, and by that I mean _now_!" Cruger shouted.

The HQ wasn't just a defenceless station: only a really poor fool wouldn't think about adding armaments to a station, and considering what the S.P.D. Central HQ was central to, building it without any defences was almost asking for pirate raids daily. As such, the station had a number of laser turrets built around it, capable of matching the cannons of warships with ease.

The space between the pirating warship and the S.P.D. Central HQ's gun turrets quickly became filled with lasers as the gun turrets on both vessels did their best to outgun each other. However, given its size, armour plating and the sheer number of gun turrets, which related back to its size, the gun turrets of the Central HQ won out, just after the pirate ship had launched dozens of boarding pods.

The pods whipped through space, each carrying between ten and twelve pirates, some of which were battle-hardened buccaneers and others little more than conscripted men abducted straight from their homes and forced to fight for the pillaging ways at gunpoint. Armed with a variety of weapons, they were well prepared and eager to launch an attack against S.P.D. for whatever reason and with even more conviction: the pods were a one way trip, and without the support of their frigate, their only ticket out of the station was to steal the station's shuttles.

But of course, they were pirates: that meant that they were essentially _obliged_ to steal anything that wasn't nailed down.

"Yargh me hearties!" the lead pirate screamed as he burst forth from the boarding pod that had attached and drilled through the station's hull, brandishing a cutlass in one hand and a laser pistol in the other. He was wearing tattered black leather clothing and even a black eyepatch: all arch stereotypical gear of age old pirates. "Let's plunder us some booty!"

The pirates charged forward, screaming war cries and curses as some ran headlong into the S.P.D. defenders. Clashes resulted all throughout the station as pirates met cadets, officers and Rangers with lasers, cutlasses and clubs.

Co-Commander Sky Tate was leading a squad of his best Rangers down to a breach near the engine room when the corridor in front of them exploded into smoke and sparks. A dozen pirates ran inside through the hull breach, screaming in the Ye Olde Pirate Speak of…well, Old. They spotted the Co-Commander and the Rangers, and screamed more of their gibberish before charging the 'scurvy dogs'.

The lead pirate ran straight at Sky, raising his sword above his bug-like head. With a yell, he brought it down, but was blocked by Sky's rifle. The sword clanged off the gun, even as Sky rammed his armoured elbow into the pirate's stomach. The other pirates ran right past the duo, and began to engage the five Rangers behind him nearly on a two pirates to one Ranger basis.

Even as the pirate reeled back from Sky's attack, the Co-Commander brought the butt of the rifle down on his head, knocking the pirate out cold. The pirate dropped, and free to redirect his fire, Sky placed a pair of lasers into the back of a pirate sneaking up on the Red Ranger.

"Thank you sir!" the Ranger shouted, even as he clobbered the pirate he was fighting with a fist to the face.

"Less thanking and more fighting!" the Blue Ranger shouted, even as he was shot in the back by a pirate. "I'm hit!"

Sky also shot that pirate.

"Thank you sir!" the Blue Ranger said while getting up and earning a glance from the Red Ranger in the process.

The rest of the pirates went down fairly easily after that, and once again, Sky and his Rangers were charging down the hall, before running into something a little more advanced at an intersection: a pirate wearing what looked like a welding mask, a large tank on his back that suspiciously had the word 'GAS' written on it in nearly illegible writing and red paint, and a metallic hose…that had a fire burning at the end of it.

"Flamethrower!" Sky yelled. "Get back!"

They managed to duck back into a side corridor before the pirate fired. A gout of flame sizzled out of the hose and filled the hallway, before dissipating. Sky was very thankful that the pirate didn't use a liquid to create the flames, otherwise they would've been in a very different position: the fire would've blocked their way until it died out.

Seeing as the pirate had stopped throwing flames into the corridor, three of the Rangers stepped out, their rifles raised and firing the second they rounded the corner. Lasers forced the flamethrower pirate back behind another corner as Sky leapt out and forced their rifles down.

"Watch where the hell you're shooting!" Sky roared. "Hit that gas tank and half this corridor's gonna go up in flames!"

"Sorry sir," they replied, just as Sky saw the pirate with the flamethrower was back.

"Son of a bitch!" Sky's eyes widened, and he instantly let loose a barrage of lasers that struck the pirate, wall and ceiling, and everything except the giant gas tank that the pirate wore on his back.

The other Rangers stared in shock as the pirate toppled down while Sky tried to regain his composure.

"Let's move on," he breathed, before another pair of pirates came around the corner, bearing a pair of large silver and black weapons.

"Look matey, more of those scurvy dogs!"

Sky didn't recognise the guns, but something caught his eye: the clinking and golden chain of age old bullets from a box to the side of the gun.

"Take cover!" he shouted, before the two pirates cackled madly, and pulled the triggers, sending streams of bullets that chipped the walls and ricocheted across the corridor.

The Rangers took it upon themselves to poke out of cover whenever possible, exchanging a few lasers for every few bullets that streaked down.

While the exchange was happening, Sky had called up Bridge's communicator, and was waiting for the agent to pick up, even as a bullet whizzed by.

"Yeah?" the secret agent asked, sounding frustrated.

"Bridge, get your ass back here! We're under attack!" Sky shouted, even as one of the pirates took a laser to the leg and went down screaming, and the other tossed a grenade that exploded.

"What do we do now sir?" the Red Ranger asked, as he fired a few lasers at the now-panicking pirates.

"We kick their asses," Sky replied, peering around the corner and nearly taking a bullet to the helmet for his trouble.

* * *

**Time: 1549 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Landing Bay 4, lower levels of S.P.D. Central HQ, in orbit over Akaih VIII**

It wasn't too hard to tell that the S.P.D. Central HQ was in a bit of a predicament as Bridge landed his shuttle. Even on approach to the station, he could see flashes of laser fire from the windows, and a number of ungainly pods that looked like they had been bolted together from rusted sheets of scrap metal were attached to the hull.

And when he hopped out of the shuttle, the picture became even clearer: sword clashes could be heard along with shouting and screaming much like how he had heard it over the communicator with Sky.

With contacting the Co-Commander in mind, Bridge reached for his communicator, just as a pair of pirates smashed into the landing bay, intent on securing a way out of the station.

"Die!" they screamed at Bridge, raising their swords and charging the surprised agent.

"Pirates?!" was all Bridge could say before a pair of swords were swung at his head, both of which he ducked under.

He kicked one down, and rolled to the side to avoid a sudden downward swing, and ended up facing the pirate's side. Another kick knocked the pirate down and two quick jabs to the pressure points resulted in the pair of pirates rendered unconscious.

"Sky? Come in Sky!" Bridge said into his communicator.

"Go ahead Bridge," Sky said, and he could hear more gunfire over the line.

"Why are there pirates aboard the station?" Bridge asked.

"Why do you think we're under attack?" Sky replied. "Now get a move on to the Triple C! I'm securing the reactor and engines, so I can't help you there!"

"Roger that Sky, Bridge out. Good luck with securing the engines," Bridge said, closing the communicator to see a trio of terrified cadets run past the open door, closely pursued by a pair of pirates.

He blinked, and then lasers flew down the corridor, and a pair of pirates quickly ran past, screaming as a horde of also screaming (but for entirely different reasons) cadets chased after them.

"Alright…" Bridge said, shaking his head before remembering he had a job to do: secure the Triple C.

* * *

**Time: 1602 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Command and Control Centre, S.P.D. Central HQ, in orbit over Akaih VIII**

"Is the Supreme Commander secure?" Cruger demanded, even as the sounds of battle could be heard down the corridor.

"Yes sir; Guardian 1 has reported they have safely reached the room and are securing the perimeter while the others guard him," the communications officer answered.

"Good. Bring half the Command Centre's defence force inside, and have the other half defend the perimeter," Cruger ordered.

Six Rangers, all wearing silver suits and black S.W.A.T. armour with Delta Enforcers came into the room and waited as the other six set up positions outside. They nodded to Cruger even as the Commander pulled out his preferred weapon: the famed Shadow Sabre. A dozen Rangers was all that he had to protect the Command and Control Centre, and while it was tempting to bring all twelve into the Centre to turn the one entrance into a chokepoint, Cruger knew that it wasn't the best defence: all someone had to do was chuck a flashbang into the Centre, and then all the defenders would be paralysed.

One of the silver Rangers looked up at Cruger from his position behind a small barricade. "Sir, Guardian 2 has reported contact and engagement with hostiles. They cannot hold out for much longer."

"Then prepare for battle," Cruger said, preparing his sabre.

* * *

**Time: 1607 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Hallway 17 Section A Restricted Area, S.P.D. Central HQ, in orbit over Akaih VIII**

Bridge hurried down the corridor leading to the Command and Control Centre as fast as he could. The bulkhead that normally sealed the restricted section, which was the corridor he was in, had been blasted open, and a pair of pirates had been guarding it until he showed up.

Leaving a pair of unconscious bodies behind him, Bridge slowed as he approached the entrance to the Command and Control Centre, wincing slightly at the sight of its defenders sprawled across the ground along with the bodies of apparently veteran pirates. However, he hurried up when he heard the sound of fighting going on inside the Triple C. Reaching the entrance, he very carefully poked his head inside.

Inside, two of the six Guardian Rangers (the other four were sprawled across the ground) were fighting off nearly three times that many pirates, as Cruger fought alongside them. The Commander was showing his skill with the blade, hacking and slashing away at pirates who got too close. But even with the skill displayed from all the remaining defenders, it was obvious that the defenders were going to lose, unless someone stepped in.

And sure enough, Bridge stepped in.

His pistol was the first thing to enter, as he shot in a pair of pirates who were going after the officers in the room, many of which had been cowering underneath the consoles they worked on.

The sudden barrage of shots stopped a few pirates dead as they glanced back at the doorway.

"Argh! More scurvy scum!" one roared, raising his blade and rushing Bridge.

"Stop talking like pirates!" Bridge yelled back, running forward and fly kicking the pirate in the face. "Oh wait, you are pirates. My bad."

The pirate barely had more time to say anything else pirate-related when Bridge's foot swung around and connected with his bandana-wearing head. The kick knocked the pirate out cold, even as the remaining pirates realised that their chances of winning had dropped dramatically.

"Argh! Kill their scurvy dog leader!" the pirate leader shouted, before issuing a war cry and charging at Cruger along with the three other pirates remaining, their intent obvious.

Cruger managed to cut down the first attacker, before the other three pounced on him, driving the S.P.D. Commander to the ground and proceeding to pummel him with whatever they could get their hands on.

"Don't just stand there! Pull them off!" Bridge yelled to the dumb-struck Guardian Rangers, and to demonstrate, dived into the mess himself.

Moments later, a pirate flew out of the pile, screaming bloody murder at the top of his lungs before impacting against the wall and sliding down, unconscious. Taking his example, the remaining two Guardian Rangers shoved into the pile, punching one pirate out and smashing the other's head with a rifle butt and at last, with the help of Bridge, yanked out the fourth and final one, before proceeding to punch him in the face.

"Command Centre secure," one of the Guardian Rangers panted at last. "Thanks Agent."

"No problem."

* * *

**Time: 1642 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Command and Control Centre, S.P.D. Central HQ, in orbit over Akaih VIII**

Bridge stood at attention, a neutral expression on his face as Supreme Commander Fowler paced up and down in front of him, arms folded behind his back, and as always, head raised high. He never seemed to look down unless it was to speak to someone.

"So, with the unfortunate incapacitation of Commander Cruger, I'll be temporarily the Commander of this station until he is better," Fowler said, not mentioning the fact that by being the Commander of this station meant being Commander of all S.P.D. forces throughout the galaxy.

Commander Cruger was now currently in the Infirmary, along with dozens of other officers and cadets injured because of the pirate boarding action. The commander had suffered multiple wounds including several stab wounds, broken ribs, arms and legs and had lost a lot of blood. If he had been human, as Syd told him earlier, he would've been dead by now.

"Sir, with all due respect, I thought that protocol said that the second-in-command takes over in case the current Commander is incapacitated or incapable of commanding," Bridge said, frowning.

"A small shift in protocol temporarily for the better," the Supreme Commander said dismissively. "Tate will keep his post of course and I will take his advice into consideration when necessary."

"If you say so sir."

The Supreme Commander stopped pacing and instead proceeded to move over to and sit down at Cruger's desk. He let out a content sigh when he did so, before proceeding to drum his 'fingers' across the surface of the table.

"Agent Carson, there is something that I need you to do," Fowler said, motioning for Bridge to come closer.

"Yes sir?"

"We believe that there is something suspicious going on at a Gruumm Armaments Inc. factory on Sorberus II. I need you to go there and investigate, and then report back on what you have discovered," Fowler said.

"When do I leave sir?" Bridge asked. It never paid to question anything besides leaving times and objectives when it came to the Supreme Commander.

"Now, Agent Carson. Dismissed."

Bridge saluted, and then turned on his heel and left. Fowler watched the secret agent leave before he himself left the Command and Control Centre.

Nearly half an hour later, the scanning officer blinked as the computer reported that it had detected a message sent that checked out, though whose code it was the officer couldn't tell. He frowned even more at the content of the message.

_Snd Strk Tm to Elmnt Agnts. _

_Apprv. _

* * *

**Time: 1656 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Beutat's office, Chimera Mobile HQ Phoenix, en route to Sorberus II**

"S.P.D.'s been attacked?" Kat asked, more than slightly shocked at the news. Her mind instantly shot to Bridge and wondering where the secret agent was during the attack.

Beutat nodded vigorously through the hot coffee in his mouth. He grasped for the remote for the screen on the side of his office with his left hand, ever so reluctant to let go of his coffee. At last, his large sweaty palm grasped the remote and turned the screen on to the news channel.

"A shocking development has occurred today," the female reporter was saying as the background showed the S.P.D. Central HQ. "We have received word that the S.P.D. Central HQ was only attacked just hours ago. Who the attackers are or what their intents were are unknown at this point in time, but what is obvious is that the attack has either succeeded but the attackers are remaining quiet, or that their attack has been repelled."

The reporter continued to prattle off the facts as Beutat switched the screen off.

"Is this a good sign?" Kat carefully asked as her commander drained the last of his coffee.

"I wouldn't think so: it's a sign that S.P.D.'s power base is weakening, which probably is good for us, or that it's a sign that other organisations are becoming very powerful these days, which isn't so good," the commander answered.

"How is S.P.D.'s weakening power base good for us?" Kat asked.

"You should know that we are always considered second to S.P.D.," Beutat said as Kat rolled her eyes. Here he went again… "Well, if their power base is weakening, it means that we may have a greater portion of the official funds that each of us is given."

"And we can improve our equipment, training facilities, recruit more people and so on," Kat finished for him.

There were actually two funds: the official fund that the galactic administration body designated for the two law enforcement agencies, but that was never enough. Instead, both agencies had a 'contracts' of sorts with a few planetary governments that allowed them to have the extra funding necessary. Hardly anyone in the public and not involved with either organisation knew about the unofficial funds, and most intended to keep it that way.

"I don't suppose that you've called me here to chat?" Kat asked, folding her arms across her chest in a very direct, non-suggestive manner. After that little incident a few weeks ago, she had been forced into a pact with Felix not to do anything stupid in Beutat's office.

"Always working Kat," Beutat sighed. "But no, I haven't. I need you to investigate a Gruumm Armaments Inc. factory on Sorberus II."

Kat nodded. "Will I be getting any support from Colonel Aiola's Black Ops?"

Beutat shook his head. "This is a strictly restricted mission Kat: Class 9 restriction. No one else can know about it."

"When do I leave?"

"Now. Good luck, and be careful."

"I always am."

Soon after the shuttle Kat took left the _Phoenix_, a communiqué was sent out. Had someone been at the scanning station, the message would have been found.

_Snding Strk Tm to Srbers II. _

* * *

**Time: 1805 hours, galactic standard time / Location: On approach to Sorberus II**

Bridge stared at the planet of Sorberus II with a mixture of awe and disgust.

Virtually all the planet was urbanised, and most prominent were the so-called 'factory farms': entire stretches of land devoted to nothing but factories and the running of them. Automated transports and mag-lev railways carried the raw materials from the mines and refineries to the factories, where they were turned into goods. Clouds of smog always covered the skies, and Bridge remembered reading a fact that seeing the blue sky was a one in a thousand chance.

There was a very good reason for the planet's sheer number of factories: the sheer quantity of natural resources that the planet held. Sorberus II was a literal goldmine of all the materials necessary to produce goods: ore, gas, oil, all of it. That made the price of locally buying the materials ridiculously cheap, and considering how easy it was to mine, that also added to the astronomically cheap price. And that in turn made having a factory on Sorberus II a very attractive proposal. Often, land for factories sold for record prices as companies competed to get a factory onto the planet.

Shaking his head, Bridge flew the shuttle down onto the landing pad closest to the Gruumm Armaments Inc. The huge factory easily dominated over the others, and the massive stylised 'GA' that was the symbol of the weapons manufacturing company made distinguishing it from the others that much easier.

It wasn't too difficult for Bridge to reach the factory gates, and after that, it was a simple matter of watching for the security guards before scaling the gate with his hidden grappling hook. Of course, the fact that it was becoming dark also helped.

"Note to self: thank Sophie and Boom for designing the miniature grappling hook," Bridge said as he landed on the other side, still unseen by security.

Not wanting to further test his luck, Bridge just bolted for the entrance when a transport overflowing with processed ore rolled up, attracting the guards' attention. Climbing up a maintenances stairwell and slipping in through an open window with a few near-disasters, Bridge soon found himself standing on a catwalk inside the massive Gruumm Armaments Inc. factory.

The furnaces of the factory created an eerie red light throughout the entire room, and added with the fact that it was essentially the only light inside, the sneaking down the catwalk proved to be more than a little unnerving for Bridge as he made his way to where he hoped he would find something.

"Hmmm…administration sounds good, but I think that research and development sounds better…" Bridge mused to himself as he flicked on a torch and shone it on post the showed directions to each particular section.

Halfway to the research and development section, Bridge rounded a corner and instantly ran into another person, knocking them both down. While on any other occasion he would've gotten up and helped the person up, the fact was that he was on a mission, and he also wasn't supposed to be here. So he launched an attack instead, hoping to knock the other person out with a quick punch to the face before they could alert anyone.

The person however turned out to be well-trained as they kicked his fist out of the way before springing up and lashing out at Bridge with a lightning fast strike aimed at his face. Bridge jerked his head to the side, grabbed the arm before twisting around and pulling the assailant over his shoulder, hurling them over and straight for the catwalk.

Instead of cracking against the catwalk like anybody else would've, the person landed in a crouch, and instantly pushed themselves back up again, curling up and landing both feet against his chest before Bridge could do so much as let go. The attack pushed Bridge down the catwalk, and the attacker continued to flip after the attack, landing and then instantly spinning around with a roundhouse kick.

Bridge ducked under the kick and launched himself forward, rugby tackling the person to the ground, before rolling forward and off them. He sprang up, intent on hitting the person while they were down…but whoever it was rolled backwards, kicking him in the chest again and knocking him down on his behind.

"Oof," Bridge grunted as he hit the ground, before his eyes widened, and hurled himself backward to avoid the fist that flew above him.

He sprang up, and rammed the person with his shoulder before they could get out of the way. Given how skinny the catwalk was however, dodging sideways was nearly impossible as he pushed the person back, and then pushed them stomach first against the railing, above a furnace.

"Now," Bridge panted. "Tell me—…"

Before he could finish, the person did something that he called insane: they dove _forwards_.

Their hands shot out and grasped the lower railing however, and the force of their dive and the sudden anchor sent the person flying below the catwalk, and given its lack of width, quite easily flipped around underneath, flew up from the other side and landed a kick on Bridge's back, sending the secret agent flying over the side!

Bridge quickly thought, and copied the same move the person had just pulled off, except that he had the momentum of their kick pushing him forwards. He flew underneath and came up, but the person quite accurately timed his flight, and ducked underneath his kick as he flew over again. Luckily, Bridge managed to grab hold again and continue his flight for a second time, this time surprising the person with a successful kick that knocked them against the railing with enough force to bounce them back off against it and back onto the catwalk.

Panting heavily, Bridge quickly proceeded to pin the helmeted person dressed in grey and black military fatigues down.

"Who are you?" he demanded, and the figure actually stopped struggling.

"Bridge?" a very familiar voice asked.

The person shook their head, and that motion removed the helmet that covered their head, and much to his shock, Bridge found that he was staring at Kat.

"Kat?" he asked, shocked, before hurriedly scrambling off her and offering her a hand. "What are you doing here?"

Kat didn't answer as she stood up and brushed herself down. Instead, she suddenly rammed her knee into Bridge's chest, winding him and sending him to his knees.

"That was for hitting me," the feline explained as she helped a winded Bridge up.

"Thanks…" Bridge coughed.

"You'll live. What are you doing here?" she questioned.

"Digging up some dirt on Gruumm," he answered, getting his breath back. "Nice moves by the way."

"Thanks, but I'm also here to do the same thing," Kat said, confused. "Why is that?"

"Coincidence?" Bridge shrugged. "Care to join me?"


	15. Disturbing Discoveries

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: Not much to say here really. But I do want to warn you that this story is starting to take a shift from the more humorous side of things to a more serious look on things, simply because of the way the plot is progressing (I can already here shouts of 'what plot?!'). There'll still be the occasional humorous bit thrown in there, so don't think that this is going to turn into a full angst kind of story. Remember, all of you read, enjoy and review, and I'll see ya next week as we go back to normal once a week updates!

Wish me luck for my piano exam! And be prepared for massive revelations!

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

"_EyeNet? What the heck is an EyeNet?"_

"_Shut that toast-eating mouth of yours and we'll find out." _

_S.P.D. Intelligence Agent Bridge Carson and Chimera Agent Katherine 'Kat' Manx, hacking into a computer at R&D Department of Gruumm Armaments Inc. factory on Sorberus II_

* * *

**Time: 1837 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Inside Gruumm Armaments Inc. factory on Sorberus II**

The two secret agents crept through the factory. The only sound came from the near non-stop machinery working away, churning out gun after gun after gun. Several of the larger machines worked on building military vehicles: as they crept along, Bridge saw tanks, jeeps, armoured personnel carriers and even a few of the gunships he had seen on Soletu Zeta being constructed.

"This is some factory, eh?" he whispered to Kat.

"Definitely. Now you know where half the galaxy's weapons and vehicles come from," Kat said back.

They continued on, headed for the Research and Development department of the factory. The lack of guards actually inside the factory helped them move undetected, and the sheer number of things to hide behind: giant silos filled with excess ore prepared for production, moving machinery parts and large computer and control panels that controlled the production lines. Bridge actually stopped at one of the control panels and peered at the screen.

"Nice design," he admired, before Kat grabbed his arm and forcefully pulled him away.

He guiltily followed her, until she spun around.

"Why are we going to the Research and Development department?" Kat asked. "I don't think we'll be finding any documents of his dealings in a research department."

"Come on Kat, doesn't it seem suspicious?" Bridge said.

"What does?"

"A research department…in a factory. Why would you want to have a research department in factory on a world that supports factories? Wouldn't you devote more space to creating more production lines instead of a research lab?" Bridge said.

"If you say so," Kat sighed, following the signs littered around the factory to the Research and Development department.

The reddish light from the furnaces slowly gave way to brighter lighting as the two moved further and further and further from the production lines and closer to the Research and Development department. Bridge guessed the scientists in general hated working in environments different to the clean, bright, antiseptic ones they normal stayed and worked in.

"Not always," Kat said after Bridge had expressed that opinion to her as she carefully scanned the room in front of them. "I know a few who don't. But most generally do like the clean working environment."

"Wonder why," Bridge sighed.

The two of them paused as they reached the end of the catwalk that led into a larger and cleaner corridor with side corridors branching off. Large sliding doors prevented entrance to what quite probably were the labs, and the sign that read 'Research and Development Department' at the top of the corridor starting from the catwalk only served to reinforce the already obvious fact.

"Where to now?" Bridge asked.

"This was your idea," Kat reminded him, but looked thoughtful. "Let's see if we can find a computer."

"In a research department, I don't think that there will be a shortage of them," Bridge remarked.

"I meant the main computer with the records," Kat amended as Bridge let out an understanding 'ah'.

Proceeding into the department, Kat and Bridge began to look around for anything that may leave a hint as to Gruumm's dirty dealings.

* * *

**Time: 1755 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Infirmary, S.P.D. Central HQ, in orbit over Akaih VIII**

Sky stared at the unconscious form of his Commander while Syd fussed over him. In the final stretch to the engine compartment, Sky and his team had run into two pyromaniacal, flamethrower wielding pirates, and given the small space in which they were fighting, burns had to be inevitable. The worst case in his team was their Yellow Ranger, who had suffered third-degree burns to her left arm and leg after attempting to knock the last pirate down. Sky didn't know what had possessed her to tackle a flamethrower pirate, but if she hadn't, he most certainly wouldn't be here right now: the pirate had been aiming directly at him, and not even his suit would have saved him from the ensuing heat had not the Yellow Ranger, who was now in the emergency room ran into the pirate.

The entire Infirmary was choked with patients as doctors, nurses and even squad medics hurried around to help everyone they could. The attack had left a number of people dead, and even more injured. Those who were dead were having their personal belongings filed away to be sent to family and being recorded into S.P.D.'s system and list of deaths.

"Hold still," Syd chided as she applied a lotion to the burns that he had suffered.

"It burns," Sky protested, his voice barely audible over the din of people shouting and the wounded screaming.

"What do you expect? It's what you get for being so stupid," Syd said.

"Stupid? I can't control everything that happens on the battlefield," Sky said. "How was I supposed to realise that there were two of them with flamethrowers?"

Syd had no answer, and despite the fact that he was partially burnt, Sky wore a triumphant grin on his face, until at least Syd slapped him over the head.

"Hey hey, injured man here!" he protested, even as Syd handed him a glass of water and a pair of pills.

"Take these, and rest," she said, placing stress on rest and giving him a firm look to make sure he understood.

"Whatever the doctor orders," Sky said, reaching for and swallowing the pills along with a mouthful of water. "How's the Commander?"

"He should be awake soon, actually," Syd replied, glancing over at the Commander. "He's a tough one."

"Where's Bridge?" Sky asked, struggling to stay awake. The pills worked really fast, and within a minute, he knew he was going to be sleeping like a baby. Already his vision was becoming blurry, and his eyelids becoming heavier.

"I don't know actually," she admitted. "He wasn't injured, or otherwise he would have been here with all these other poor fellows."

"Make sure he's alright…" Sky muttered before falling asleep.

Syd stared at him, and then planted a kiss on his cheek before turning to other, more pressing concerns.

* * *

**Time: 1849 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Research and Development Department, Gruumm Armaments Inc. manufacturing plant, Sorberus II**

Bridge and Kat made their way down the spotless halls of the research and development department, occasionally peering into the windows of the different rooms as to discern whether there was anything inside that was worth their attention.

What they had found so far were plenty of weapon prototypes, testing ranges, vehicle and gun blueprints and plenty of computers. What they didn't find was the main computer, instead of the ones that undoubtedly only held information and statistics about that particular thing that the computer was in.

"Remind me again, what are we looking for?" Bridge asked, peering through another window to see more blueprints.

"Just find something suspicious," Kat answered, also looking.

"What if any guards are around?"

"They're either all on the other side or are not here," Kat said.

"How do you know?"

"I stole the rotation schedule off a sleeping guard."

"Oh. Right."

The two continued to proceed down the hall, making very slow progress as they had to check each and every door. Minutes ticked by as Bridge and Kat painstakingly searched through the department for what they were looking for.

"Damn this computer," Bridge muttered, turning away from another testing room. "It feels like we've checked a hundred rooms already."

Kat chose not to respond as they continued their currently fruitless search.

"Hey Kat?"

"What?"

"How old are you?"

"Why do you need to know?" Kat asked, stopping her search to look at Bridge.

"I'm making conversation," Bridge replied.

"Do you know how long it's been since someone's tried to have a decent conversation with me?" Kat asked.

"You looked like you were having a good conversation with that guy on Akeih," Bridge said.

"You still have to mention that?" Kat asked, glancing back.

Bridge shrugged, and turned back to his search, Kat apparently not giving him an answer.

"One hundred and twenty seven Earth years."

"What?" Bridge asked, spinning around.

"I'm one hundred and twenty seven Earth years old, or twenty one of my years," Kat repeated.

"Oh…so you've been around longer then…"

"Yeah."

Bridge suddenly realised that whenever he and Kat had finished a line of conversation that didn't lead to another line of talk, an uncomfortable silence always fell between them. Before he could contemplate the recurring trend anymore, he glanced through another window, and was pleasantly surprised to find that it didn't hold more prototypical weapons or designs. The fact that it seemed like a conference room helped solidify his opinion, and he pushed against it, only to find that it was locked.

"Hey Kat!" he whispered loudly, causing the Chimera agent to glance over briefly before walking over.

"What?"

"I think I found what we're looking for," he said, motioning inside the room. "But the door's locked."

Kat peered in, before nodding. She pulled out a small rectangular device from one of her vest's many pockets and attached it to the door.

"What's that gizmo?"

"Just a highly advanced lockpick," Kat answered, crouching down so she was eyelevel with the device as Bridge crouched down next to her as well.

A few seconds and button presses later, the door unlocked and Kat strolled inside, apparently forgetting about the lockpick.

"Neat," Bridge whistled, going to touch the device.

"Leave it there," Kat warned. "Take it off and it may set off the alarms, if there are any."

Bridge hastily withdrew his hand, closed the door and joined Kat at the main computer at the front. Her fingers were already flying across the keys, and to Bridge, it sounded like machinegun fire as she tapped commands in.

"Give me a second to hack into this," Kat said, the tip of her tongue protruding from the side of her mouth as she bit her tongue in concentration.

"So you're a dead eye with that pistol, a very good close combat fighter and can hack computers as well?" Bridge stated more than asked. "What can't you do?"

"Cook breakfast," Kat immediately answered, causing Bridge to burst out laughing. "Seriously, I can't!"

"What, does someone else cook for you?"

"I just take my meals in the mess hall," Kat said, still focused on the screen as her fingers continued to fly over the keys.

"Remind me to teach you someday."

"You can cook?" Kat looked surprised.

"My dad taught me," Bridge answered somewhat proudly.

"Is he…"

"Back on Earth."

"Do you miss him?" Kat asked.

"Yeah, but the people at S.P.D. are pretty much my family now," Bridge said.

"Lucky you."

"How many friends do you have over at wherever your base is?" Bridge asked.

"I've only got one true friend: his name's Felix," Kat answered. "Everyone else is just another person; I've got more enemies than friends actually."

"That must suck."

"It does," Kat agreed, before the computer beeped. "There."

Bridge moved to look at the screen, and Kat shifted slightly to the side to allow for the extra space needed to accommodate Bridge. They peered at the screen as Kat searched through the computer.

"There: the top secret folder," Bridge said, pointing.

Kat accessed it, hacked through the security systems again and within seconds, they had found a huge number of files. The only common thing to them was one word: EyeNet.

"What's EyeNet?" Bridge asked.

Kat clicked on one of the files, and discovered that it was a voice recording.

"Let it play."

_These are the private audio logs of Dr. James Krakowiak, lead scientist and researcher on Project EyeNet Resurrection. _

_These logs are strictly classified with the highest required security code.__ If you are an ordinary Gruumm Armaments Inc. employee and you are listening to this, you are now officially fired. Please proceed to the Administration Desk to collect your Termination of Employment benefits package. If you are not a Gruumm Armaments Inc. employee and you are listening to this, please leave your name and address with the receptionist. We will send a hitman squad to whack you later. _

_Two weeks ago, I was placed in charge of this project along with a team of other top scientists. The EyeNet project was designed to firstly gain information and then discover the location of EyeNet. We should be begin with what EyeNet is at first. _

The screen changed to show one of the broken pieces of the data disc that Bridge had been after.

"Hey, isn't that one part of the data disc?" Bridge asked Kat, who nodded in response.

"Just keep watching," she said.

_At first, we had one piece of the data disc, which we were quite capable of accessing. The information was on some topics complete, yet in others, most particularly location, was very fragmented and broken. We have reason to believe that once placed together, all the information will be complete, including the location._

_But this portion of the disc seems to contain information regarding to what EyeNet is and most intriguingly, what weapons it mounts. From this, we can assume the other discs contain the information on its operation, the more specific specs on its capabilities and most importantly, its location. The following report gives an overview on EyeNet. _

_To put it simply, EyeNet is an abbreviation for directEd energY wEapon NETwork. It is a space borne weapons platform and space station, and by the current galactic governing body's definitions, is considered a superweapon. _

_The station is fully capable of housing an entire army and supporting it along with any other required logistical staff and even equipment. The only thing that prevents the EyeNet from being a fully capable base is the lack of production facilities and given how it has yet to be discovered, its remote location most likely also prohibits its capability to mine the required materials to produce the vehicles and necessities of war. If these factors were somehow able to be overcome, it is quite feasible that the station can be used as a fully functional base of operations. _

_However, the main purpose of the station is not as a military base, but rather a weapons platform. Or more accurately, a superweapon platform, given its armament. The primary weapon is an ion cannon, which alone is already dangerous. However, the reason why it is so dangerous is not because of the cannon itself, but rather the nine amplification satellites that orbit the station. The satellites give the cannon's fire a massive boost in range, and from the information we have, with all nine satellites functional, it is nearly capable of firing at targets on the other side of the galaxy. _

_To further support its offensive firepower, there is a network of nine nuclear missiles. Such weapons are rarely, if ever, found let alone used. But indeed, the station supports enormous firepower, and it can quite conceivably be that if backed up by a strong fleet, the EyeNet will grant the person who controls it near limitless power over everyone else…_

Kat and Bridge looked shocked at the revelation, even as the recording continued to babble on.

"I think that's all we're going to get from there," Kat frowned, trying to find something else that would give them another lead. "That won't do much to incriminate Gruumm: it'll just show he's interested."

"Keep looking," Bridge said, occasionally glancing at the doorway.

"What do you think I'm doing?"

* * *

**Time: 1921 hours, Earth time / Location: Alternative Information, Newtech City, Earth**

The doors had been closed, the clients had left, and in their leaving, they had left a rare moment of peace and quiet for Jack and Z. The former was currently sitting on a couch in the lounge room, flipping through a good comic book even as the television in front of him blared with the day's news. The latter was currently in the small kitchen, preparing a meal for the two of them and grumbling under her breath about her so-called 'brother's laziness.

"They really should consider putting something more interesting on sometimes," Jack yawned, throwing the comic book aside and stretching.

"And maybe you should try doing something other than lounge about being lazy," Z snapped.

"I shall do so then," Jack announced, getting up and leaving the room, only to shoot back seconds later as the reporter mentioned the word 'S.P.D.'. "Hey Z!"

"What?" Z shouted back.

"Check this out!" Jack said as she walked into the room, her hands white from most probably flour.

"In intergalactic news, making headlines today was the attack on S.P.D.'s main headquarters, the S.P.D. Central HQ. No information has been released as of yet pertaining to the identity of the attackers, though there is speculation that it may have been remnants of a terrorist group that held a grudge…"

"Oh my God…Bridge…" Z said, staring at the screen. "Is he alright?"

Jack shrugged. "Don't worry about Bridge too much Z: he can handle himself."

"Yeah…I guess he can," Z said, just as the doorbell rang. "Ah, damn, who can it be now?"

"Someone who can't read," Jack said.

"Get into the kitchen and start cooking! I'll handle the people at the door," Z said, glaring at Jack.

She went to the door, and nearly flung it open. "We're closed, so come back in the morn—…"

Z's words were stopped when she saw that it was a Sphinxian at her door.

"I know, but I need to talk to you for an entirely different reason," Felix said. "May I come in?"

"Come in then," Z grumbled. "You want anything?"

"No, I'm due back soon, but thanks for asking," Felix said, not even sitting down. Instead, he remained at the door.

"So what did you need to speak to us about?"

"It's a very brief matter, and almost a favour," Felix said, glancing around before pulling out a disc from his pocket and handing it to Z.

"What's this?"

"A record of everything that's happened since the Apex incident, from our perspective. Rather, all the operations that Kat undertook."

"Why are you giving it to me?"

"Because I have a feeling that someone's going to try and destroy all evidence of her involvement in this, and not for a good reason as well. Keep it safe, and don't give it to anyone you don't trust," Felix said, turning and stopping at the doorway. "By the way, I'd hand that over to S.P.D. when the time comes."

Felix left, leaving Z alone with a disc in her hands.

* * *

**Time: 1920 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Outside Gruumm Armaments Inc. manufacturing plant, Sorberus II**

The dropship descended into the open parking lot, which was currently empty as virtually everyone had already finished work for the day. Painted completely black, the dropship was ridiculously hard to spot against the dark night sky as it landed.

The ramp hissed open, and two black-clad people walked down, staring up at the sky.

"They're late," one said.

"Give them time; they'll be here," another assured him.

There was a slight commotion at the dropship's ramp as a trio of similarly clad people struggled down the ramp holding a large metallic black box. They dropped it on the ground the second they were off the ramp, and the box hit the ground with a loud _thump_.

"Careful, careful! You don't want that going off," the first person said.

"Damn thing is heavy."

"What did you expect? Featherweights?"

"They'd be preferable," one of the trio grumbled.

"Try fighting off two agents with featherweights: then we'll see."

Five minutes later, another dropship landed next to theirs, hydraulics hissing as the miniature thrusters kept it stable while landing.

"It's about time," the first person said, even as the other dropship's ramp opened and allowed another five people black-clad out. "Only five?"

"We're all that's needed," the lead figure of the new arrivals.

"Got the weapons?"

One of the people carrying the box kicked it open, revealing a small treasure trove of laser pistols, rifles and grenades and power cells for the pistols and rifles.

"Let's get to it."

The ten people gathered around the crate, picking out weapons and strapping them on. The leader of the first five grabbed a pistol and holstered it, before clipping a quartet of grenades to his belt. Within minutes, the crate was empty, and ten fully armed people stood around it.

"Lasers on, and lets go."

Ten switches were flicked, and ten laser rifles began to charge, emitting a low hum as the group made for the entrance of the gigantic factory.

* * *

**Time: 1929 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Conference Room A52, Research and Development Department, Gruumm Armaments Inc. factory, Sorberus II**

"Hey look, project schedule," Bridge said, pointing out the file on the screen.

Kat clicked on it, and a timetable popped up, with several items in red.

"Acquisition of Soltech Engineering Systems for part of Operation Soaring Ashes?" Kat said, frowning as she read it.

"What's Project: Soaring Ashes?"

"Let me find out," Kat said, quickly typing away. "Here."

"Summary, absolute and total destruction of the galactic governing body with a _nuclear missile_?" Bridge read, surprise making his way onto his face. "He's bloody insane!"

"And well planned as well," Kat said, continuing her hunt for information. "Apparently he's constructing the missile himself, in his base…"

"Can you remember all that?"

"No. Do you have a data disc or stick?" Kat asked.

"Nope," Bridge said, searching his pockets.

"What kind of agent doesn't keep a data disc with him?"

"What kind of agent doesn't carry any explosives?" Bridge shot back.

"You didn't either before," Kat pointed out. "Back on Valda's ship?"

"I was wearing a suit: you on the other hand, were fully dressed."

"Never mind," Kat sighed. "There's one in this computer."

A few quick taps later, and Kat had made a copy of the timetable and a copy of the plans for Operation: Soaring Ashes, which she quickly pocketed.

"We'd better get out of here," Kat said, erasing any evidence that they had made copies or that they had been there.

"No kidding," Bridge muttered, still peeved at Kat.

"What's with your mood swings?" Kat asked him.

"Nothing! I'm just a little annoyed," Bridge said, though he didn't sound too convincing.

Nevertheless, they ran out of the room and had just left the Research and Development Department when lasers exploded all across their escape path, sending both agents behind a large silo for cover.

"Damn, security's here," Bridge mumbled, trying to peek around the silo.

"Not security: they don't carry rifles," Kat said, pulling out her pistol.

"We're still going to run into a lot of trouble," Bridge said.

"Get away from the silo!" Kat yelled suddenly, grabbing Bridge and diving off the catwalk.

A grenade had been quietly tossed and attached to the silo while they had been arguing, and then it exploded, taking with it a large part of the silo. The sudden weight loss on one side resulted in the silo tipping towards that side, and collapsing.

Meanwhile, Bridge was starting to recover from the sudden dive off the catwalk to the ground when Kat poked him.

"What?"

"Get up," she hissed. "They've noticed that we weren't behind the silo."

"What happened to the silo?"

"It was destroyed: luckily it was empty or else we would be burnt and melted from the liquid ore," Kat said.

"Who are they?" Bridge asked, pulling out his pistol when suddenly, a pair of the black-clad people appeared from behind a conveyer belt, rifles raised.

"There they are!"

Bridge and Kat instantly fired, hitting the same one twice and sending him crashing to the ground as the other spun back behind cover.

"I need assistance!" they heard him shout, before Bridge rolled a grenade behind his cover. The explosion sent the body flying to another part of the factory as they heard the sounds of the others running to their position.

"I think these guys are commandos of some sort," Kat said, gritting her teeth. "We'd better get rid of them or else we won't be getting out of here in one piece."

"Let's split up: I'll meet you…"

"My shuttle," Kat said. "It's parked close by: near the Lyman Factory."

"Alright," Bridge said, turning and heading off.

Kat turned around, and was instantly greeted by a pair of lasers that streaked over her head. Ducking, Kat placed a pair of lasers into the chest of the person attacking her, before his teammate retreated, throwing a grenade at Kat in the process.

She cursed, and kicked the grenade away, where it exploded. Making her way across the floor, another pair of the commandos popped up behind a conveyer belt, letting rip with their weapons and sending laser after laser at her. Kat sprinted for the nearest bit of cover, even as lasers exploded around her. Breathing heavily, Kat peeked around cover.

"Covering fire!" one of them shouted, and another popped up, laying down a heavy barrage of lasers that struck near Kat, forcing her head down lest it be removed by a laser.

Kat recognised the tactic, and knew that the danger lay with the person attempting to flank her. And with that in mind, Kat waited, her heart thumping as lasers continued to suppress her. The flanker appeared right next to her, rifle raised. Kat was quicker however, her foot lashing out and knocked the rifle away, before delivering a solid kick to his armoured head.

With that immediate threat ended, Kat turned to the newest threat, and proceeded to deal with it.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Kat had chased down the last of the commandos to a catwalk, where they had created a chokepoint at the ladder. One wrong move and she knew she would be dead faster than greased lighting. However, she had one trick up her sleeve, or rather, in her pocket: a smoke grenade. She tossed it up onto the catwalk and waited.

As expected, she heard the shouting as they tried to get away from the grenade. Kat quickly grabbed hold of the catwalk's support struts from underneath, and shimmied her way across until she was right underneath the still confused commandos. With a mighty heave, Kat swung herself up the side of the catwalk, and right into the midst of the commandos.

Her fist sent the first of the two commandos against the railing, where he nearly fell over, until Kat grabbed the commando's vest, yanked back and shoved the commando against the catwalk. His head smacked against the floor, and Kat nearly winced when she heard the smack, knocking the commando unconscious. The other commando tried to fight back, but a quick roundhouse kick to the head sent the commando flying back, crashing against the catwalk further from his unconscious teammate.

Breathing heavily still, Kat crouched down next to the closest one when she heard a yell, and another black-clad commando flew up from the ramp in the catwalk and slammed against it. Bridge ran up the dip, pistol raised, when he saw Kat, blinking in surprise.

"Aren't you meant to meet me by the shuttle?" they both asked at the same time.

"Give me a second," Kat answered, searching the unconscious commando's body as Bridge did the same to the one he knocked out.

"Kat…"

"What?" Kat asked, looking up to see Bridge holding up a Chimera badge, which he had taken from the body.

"Explain this."

Kat frowned as she searched the body, and then came up with something even more disturbing.

"Then explain this," Kat said, standing up and holding up a badge in between her fingers.

Bridge was just as shocked when he saw the dog-head and silver letters of an S.P.D. badge.


	16. Getting Out

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: I have left a Zoids reference somewhere here people. Those who have seen it may spot it, but if you haven't seen the show, don't worry about it too much. Not much reward for spotting it, except a…lemon crisp, a packet of hot chocolate and the wonkified fried egg I had for breakfast? And by the end of this chapter, all of you should be hating on Birdie like...like he was something that you'd hate!

Thanks to BB for beta-ing again, and just because I can, I'll begin a dedication to a different person each chapter. First of all...I'll dedicate this chappie to BB for constantly beta-ing and putting up with my annoying-ness. Remember to read and review (you folks know who you are, and thanks to everyone who kindly did review!), and I'll see ya all next week!

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

"_What did we expect to find? Anything except what we did find."_

_Bridge Carson, S.P.D. Intelligence Agent, reflecting on discovery of S.P.D. and Chimera badges in Gruumm Armaments Inc. factory_

* * *

**Time: 1939 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Catwalk A37-B, Gruumm Armaments Inc. factory, Sorberus II**

Both Kat and Bridge got up, and went back to the respective commandos that they had downed. Both pulled out from the other bodies the same badges that they had found on the first, and both were as shocked to see that each commando either had an S.P.D. or Chimera badge.

"What's going on?" Bridge wondered aloud first. "Why the hell did someone from your group try to kill me?!"

"How would I know? And why did someone from S.P.D. try to kill _me_?" Kat asked, directing a glare at Bridge, who held no answers.

With a sigh, Bridge turned away and pocketed one of the Chimera badges, whilst Kat did the same to one of the of S.P.D. badges.

"Let's get out of here and find somewhere safe first before we argue," Kat said, standing up.

Bridge nodded, and the two of them bolted down the length of the catwalk, escape on their minds.

That escape however, was very quickly compounded by the appearance of a legion of security guards, armed to the teeth with pistols, tasers and stun grenades and with the intent to use them. And if they were captured by security guards, then not only would it be a major embarrassment point of their career, but it would be more than a little embarrassing for S.P.D. and Chimera.

"Which way do we go?" Bridge asked as they ducked behind a large computer screen.

The security guards seemed reluctant to fire at the pair of agents whenever they were behind cover, and as such, the duo was safe for the time being.

"What do you mean?" Kat said, before a stun grenade rolled behind the screen in front of them. Cursing, Kat grabbed the grenade and quickly tossed it back into the faces of the charging security guards where it exploded, resulting in shouts and screams from the guards as they fell to the floor clutching their ears.

The sight of their comrades stopped cold by their own grenade encouraged the other guards to stop cold, as they hastily fell back behind anywhere that they couldn't be seen so they could revise their plan of attack. Their standard 'toss a grenade and charge 'em' strategy, which had previously worked against undisciplined hooligans who broke into factories for the fun of wrecking it, failed spectacularly against the two agents, who were anything but undisciplined hooligans.

"Do we still go to your shuttle? Because right now, that path is filled with guards," Bridge said, glancing around the screen and getting a dozen lasers shot in his direction for his trouble, forcing him back behind the screen. "And if they're half smart, they'll be going around flanking us in a couple of minutes."

"Got any ideas?" Kat asked.

Moments later, a guard charged around the screen on Kat's side, taser held high and crackling with energy. Bridge shot him in the leg, causing the guard to fall to the floor with a yell, which turned into incomprehensible gibberish as the taser he had been holding fell onto his chest and shocked him into unconsciousness. Kat looked behind her to see a wriggling, incoherent gabbling body behind.

"Does it make us even yet?" Bridge asked.

"Not quite: but you're getting there," Kat answered. "You have any ideas how we're going to get out of here without being shot up?"

"Chuck a few grenades out, stun them, charge them and whack them?" Bridge shrugged. "Hey, they've stopped shooting."

"A little crude," Kat commented. "They're regrouping. They'll be back soon."

"How about your ideas then?" Bridge asked.

"Get out now while they're disorganised, and knocking out anyone who gets in our way," Kat said.

"…that wasn't too different from my plan though," Bridge frowned.

"Great minds think alike," Kat shrugged. "Supposedly, anyway."

Bridge nodded, before taking another peek from the side of the screen. "Well, if we want to use your plan, we'd better hurry up; I think their planning session has almost ended."

As if to prove his point, a barrage of stun grenades flew over, around and past the screen they were hiding behind. The two of them acted instinctively, covering their ears, closing their eyes and tucking their heads into their chests to minimise exposure to the flash and bangs. A series of flashes and bangs lit up and echoed around the room respectively as some of the dimmer (no pun intended) guards ran into their own stun grenades, incapacitating themselves. Others who weren't as eager to rush forwards took the time to set themselves up while Kat and Bridge protected themselves against the stun grenades. No sooner than the last stun grenade they threw exploded did a dozen guards leap out from behind their cover and this time charged at the two agents from both sides.

Kat and Bridge popped out from their cover, and both threw a grenade at the guards who had stayed behind cover to cover their braver (or more suicidal) comrades. The two bouncing canisters of smoke and (loud) sound with a bright, intense light rolled into position, scaring the guards behind cover enough to force them to duck down as the grenades harmlessly emitted smoke or deafened or blinded them. The two of them took the opportunity to aim at the suddenly defenceless charging guards, several of which had fell victim to the two grenades, firing well-aimed lasers at their fairly unarmoured legs. Between the two of them, all of the charging guards were dropped to the ground in pain, clutching at their shins.

"No need to kill these guys: they're just people with job," Bridge said, realising that his pistol's power cell was running dry. He ejected it, and pushed a new one in, the hum of the power cell recharging his pistol music to his ears.

"What do you think we've just been doing?" Kat asked, giving Bridge a weird look before leaning around and putting another laser into a poor guard's leg. "And by the way, I think now would be a very good time to leave."

Bridge peered out, and saw that the other security guards had clearly decided to remain behind cover in fear of their lives. Given how they had seen two agents repel a dozen armed security guards without difficulty, staying behind cover to them was their best bet. With their heads ducked down behind cover, they didn't see the two agents bolt out from behind their cover and run for the exit. A few guards took potshots at the two, but the poorly aimed lasers did little to deter the agents from sprinting out of the factory.

"It's this way," Kat said, pointing to the exit for a panting Bridge, who she gave a sidelong glance. "Don't tell me you're already tired."

"Too much toast," Bridge muttered.

Kat was inclined not to ask after that as they neared the completion of their sprint, the shouting of the guards long gone since most of them had given up on the chase or were frightened off by the potential risks of chasing two well-armed and trained agents. Most of them had in fact 'initiated a tactical retreat to provide medical attention to the wounded'.

Then the door they were chasing exploded inward, and a few cackling, roughly-dressed people came in, holding all sorts of impromptu weapons and wild grins. That was, until they saw the two agents barrelling towards them.

"Get the hell out of here, you punks!" Bridge yelled, firing a laser in the general direction of the hooligans.

"It's S.P.D.! Run!" they screamed in fear.

The laser, shouting and sight of two armed people running at them was enough to scare the hooligans, who screamed like girls and turned before sprinting back as fast as they could back, vowing never to return to the factory.

"We at least did something decent for Gruumm I suppose," Bridge commented, after the two of them had exited the factory and headed for Kat's shuttle.

Kat shrugged. "There's my shuttle," she said, as the vehicle came into view. However, before the two of them could get within a hundred metres of the shuttle, it exploded.

A fireball tore through the hull, sending a shockwave that caught the two agents and hurled them off their feet, even as the fuel tanks were compromised and exploded, sending secondary, smaller fireballs racing through the air. Bits and pieces of the shuttle's hull and other fragments rained down on the two agents as they shielded their heads and faces with their arms, the two of them staggering up.

Kat swore loudly in her own language as she saw the remains of her shuttle. Any more swearing was cut off when a pair of large, imposing figures stomped through the wreckage and flames, holding a large, long gun in their armoured hands. A mechanical whirring could be heard every time the two figures took a step, and the helmets that locked in with the bulky suits of armour prevented anyone from seeing their identity.

"Why do I feel like I'm in one of those Terminator movies?" Bridge asked.

"What was that?" Kat asked, before something snapped in her. "I am going to _kill_ the bastards who just blew up my shuttle!"

With that statement, Kat bolted for the two figures before Bridge could do as much as protest.

"Women," he sighed, before chasing after her.

Kat reached the first of the two figures, and instantly fell to the floor to avoid a potential shot from its weapon. Her foot came up and cracked against the person's armour, sending him a single step back. Flipping back onto her feet, Kat ducked her head to avoid the retaliatory swing before her pistol found its way into her hands. It fired twice, and both times, the heavy armour stopped the blasts cold. Another swing from the person was easily avoided as Kat proceeded to dance around the person, lashing out with the occasional kick: she was still sane enough to know that punching it would only end up with more pain for her than the person she was punching.

Meanwhile, next to her, Bridge had wound up fighting against the other armoured person. Not as proficient in hand-to-hand combat as she was, but still knowing a few tricks, Bridge mainly focused on attempting to blast through the tough armoured shell.

"It's like trying to crack a walnut!" Bridge shouted to Kat, as he narrowly avoided an armoured fist that would've undoubtedly taken his head off had it connected. "You can't crack the shell!"

As if to prove his point, Bridge stepped back out of range of a swing, before proceeding to blast the armoured person with his pistol. The lasers did little more than to make the armour glow briefly, before Bridge kicked an armoured arm away. He leapt out of the way of yet another swing, and this time, tried aiming for the helmet. Before he could shoot however, the person sidestepped in a very awkward manner, given the restrictions that such a heavily armoured suit placed on any sort of movement, throwing his aim off for a brief second.

That second was enough for the person to reach out and knock Bridge's pistol out of his hand, sending it clattering to the ground and skidding away.

"Toast," Bridge muttered, before diving away for the pistol, reaching it before the person stood up, readying the large gun he had been carrying.

Before he could fire, Bridge fired his own pistol, knocking the gun away. That was before the person lumbered over with surprising quickness, before slamming Bridge in the stomach with a weak (for a person wearing powered armour at least) punch. The blow sent Bridge against the ground, his vision blackening as he faded out of consciousness.

Against the other person, Kat was faring slightly better. She managed to leap atop of the person's large shoulders, and leap off, sending him off balance long enough for Kat to spin around with a roundhouse kick. Then, as she went in for another attack, the person grabbed her waist, lifting the struggling Chimera agent off the ground.

"Let! Me! Go!" Kat shouted, not particularly pleased with her current situation or the fact that someone was manhandling her again.

"Sweet dreams," the heavily distorted voice of the person spoke, before slamming Kat against the ground, the impact knocking her unconscious.

* * *

**Time: 2112 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Infirmary, S.P.D. Central HQ, in orbit over Akaih VIII**

Sydney Drew, head of S.P.D.'s medical department, was in the process of fussing over another wounded cadet from the pirate attack on their headquarters when she heard a groan come from the most important patient in the infirmary.

Motioning one of the other nurses to take care of the patient she had been previously taking care of, Syd quickly hurried over to the Commander's bed, whose occupant was now beginning to sit up.

"Sir," Syd said as she reached his bed. "How're you feeling?"

"Like a dozen pirates had all attempted to kill me," Cruger answered, now sitting up.

"I think you should rest just for a little while longer," Syd said, checking the monitor that hung over his bed. "While everything seems to be fine, we'd better make sure."

"I feel fine," Cruger said, starting to slide out of the bed. "Casualty figures?"

Syd sighed. "Considering what we were up against, they were …reasonable. Nineteen dead, twenty odd or so who are seriously injured including the Yellow Ranger from Sky's team, and another twenty eight who have minor injuries."

Cruger didn't say anything as he stood up, grunting as he stretched. "Compile a list, and hand it to me later."

"Yes sir," Syd sighed as the Commander limped out of the infirmary. "Could you please make sure that you get a check up with either me or one of the other doctors?" she nearly shouted.

Cruger nodded as he turned into the corridor, leaving behind a thoroughly frustrated Syd. She rubbed her eyes, let out an explosive sigh before the beeping of another heart rate monitor began to speed up, grabbing her attention immediately as she went to save another life.

* * *

Even as he strolled through the corridors leading to the Command and Control Centre, Commander Cruger took notice of the extent of the damage that had been done to the headquarters. The walls and floor was pocked and scorched from inaccurate laser fire, several hallways were blackened from the pirate's flamethrowers, and there were even multiple craters that resulted from thrown grenades, whether they hit anything or not.

He groaned as he tried to calculate the insurmountable cost of repairing the damage done to the whole station based on what he had seen in one…no, make that two…corridors. Multiply that by the number of corridors in the station…Cruger let out another defeated groan as he soon realised that his omnipresent headaches were already punishing him for even attempting to assess the damage done. He'd need his aspirin, and soon.

And when the entrance to the Command and Control Centre opened, Cruger let out another, this time internal, sigh of despair, and made a mental note to buy more aspirin. A _lot_ more.

_So much for the idea that he's gone_, he thought to himself as he noticed that Supreme Commander Birdie Fowler sat in _his_ chair, drumming his fingers across _his_ desk, and eyes surveying _his_ Command and Control Centre and the various officers needed to man it. He had really hoped that Fowler had decided to pack up and go back to S.P.D.'s headquarters, or very secretly, that pirates had broken into the secure room and proceeded to kill the bird. Of course, with the Supreme Commander still sitting in his chair, that little daydream was about as real as flying papayas. Whatever papayas were, anyway.

"Supreme Commander," Cruger said stiffly, still standing at the doorway.

"Ah yes, Cruger," Supreme Commander Birdie Fowler said, standing up and walking off from the slightly raised platform that Cruger's desk and chair were perched upon. "How do you cope after your…unfortunate injuries?"

"I'm feeling perfectly fine," Cruger answered. "Thanks for your concern."

"You should be thanking me for more than just my concern over your physical status and wellbeing Cruger," the Supreme Commander said, strolling around, 'hands' clasped behind his back and head up as always.

"Excuse me?"

"While your were blathering away in the Infirmary of this station, having your injuries tended to by the medics, doctors and nurses, I was here, sitting at your station, taking command and issuing orders while I by all rights should be headed back to the headquarters onboard my own shuttle!" Fowler explained.

"I see sir…thank you for…assuming my command…in my…unfortunate absence," Cruger said, sounding a bit uncomfortable for once.

"No need to thank me, I was just doing what any responsible leader would do when someone is incapacitated," Fowler said.

What he forgot was that what any other, more responsible leader would have done in his situation would have been to firstly let the Co-Commander assume command. After all, it was even mentioned in the job description when Sky had applied for the position (along with nearly a thousand others from S.P.D. bases and outposts all across the galaxy), that part of his duties was 'in absence of base or headquarters Commander due to illness, death and/or injury, the Co-Commander will assume command for the remainder of the duration until the Commander recovers or in case of death, a new Commander is appointed'.

"Thank you for that as well," Cruger said, somewhat hesitantly.

"And I needed to know Cruger: how did pirates manage to board the station? I would have assumed that your gunners would have been able to shoot down the boarding pods before they attached to this station," Birdie said in a condescending tone.

"You must take into account the other factors, sir. There was a pirate warship that they were fighting against, which takes top priority."

"Then perhaps you should get your priorities straight, especially when the Supreme Commander is aboard!"

"Thank you for the advice, Supreme Commander," Cruger said.

"There was nothing to it. I must leave now: the Supreme Commander cannot waste his time chatting to every single Commander he meets. Consider it a privilege, Cruger," Fowler announced.

"I…of course, sir. It was very…nice, talking to you," Cruger replied as the Supreme Commander walked past him.

"Oh and by the way Cruger," Fowler stopped short of the door and turned around, oblivious to Cruger grinding his teeth together in anger. "I assigned your top agent a new assignment. Quite obviously, the best agent in our organisation cannot be expected to dither around at any time. Tally ho, we shall meet later."

And with that, Supreme Commander Birdie Fowler left the Command and Control Centre of the S.P.D. Central HQ, headed towards his personal shuttle and blasted off, leaving behind the bliss of Commander Cruger's command.

* * *

**Time: 2129 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Undisclosed location, predicted to be a room in Gruumm Armaments Inc. factory on Sorberus II**

The last time that Bridge and Kat had been knocked unconscious, both of them had woken up to a not-too-pleasant scene.

This was no exception.

The two of them woke up to find themselves tied together with ropes, sitting on two chairs that were also bound together. However, that wasn't what was unpleasant. In front of them stood the unpleasant sight: the iconic skeletal armoured figure of Gruumm, who had thrown away the red tie he kept for the formal business meetings and instead wore the same armour, but accentuated his appearance with a staff that held an opaque white orb in it. On either side of him stood the two armoured figures who had bested Kat and Bridge, again holding large guns that looked very dangerous. And to top it off, a dozen Krybots with a pair of Blueheads also were scattered around the room.

"Well, look who it is!" Gruumm laughed. "An S.P.D. agent, and a Chimera agent, caught red-handed snooping around my factory! And how are the two of you this very fine evening?"

"Excellent, until we ran into them two," Kat glowered with a jerk of her head at the two armoured figures.

"My name is Gruumm, but I suppose that you already know that, don't you?"

"Hard not to when eighty five percent of the galaxy's weapons and vehicles are manufactured by your company," Bridge said.

"And you've already met Apocalypse and Death," Gruumm said, walking around and then placing both hands on the gigantic shoulder plates of his two personal guards while turning to face the two bound agents.

"Fitting names," Kat commented dryly.

"We've met," Bridge said at the same time.

"So!" Gruumm declared, walking back to them and then beginning to pace around. "What have you two discovered on this delightful little frolic about my factory?"

"Like hell we're going to tell you," Kat snapped as Gruumm shrugged.

"No matter: I think I know what it was anyway. It was this, wasn't it?" he said, bringing out a portion of the red and gold data disc that bore part of a silver eagle.

"Where did you get that?" Bridge demanded. "We've got two of those!"

"And we supposedly have the other one," Kat put in, staring at the disc.

"Correct! Or at least, partially," Gruumm chuckled evilly, putting the portion of the disc away. "You S.P.D. thought you had the third and final portion of the disc, but in fact, you didn't!"

"What do you mean?" Bridge asked.

"It's so delightful when a plan comes together," Gruumm chuckled again. "You remember bringing in the third and supposedly final part of the disc?"

Bridge nodded as Kat listened.

"Well, that part you brought in happened to be a very well replicated copy of the third portion, which is actually in my hands!" Gruumm revealed. "I had a tracking device placed in it, so by bringing it in, twice, you've revealed to me the location of your piece!"

Gruumm broke down into maniacal laughter, even as Bridge and Kat tried to share a glance. Given their current positions tied back to back however, glancing at each other was all but impossible.

"Wait a minute," Bridge interrupted Gruumm's laughing spree.

"Yes?" the clearly maniacal, if not insane, CEO asked, straightening up to look at the two of them.

"Why are you telling us this?" Bridge asked.

"Hmmm…yes, why am I telling you this?" Gruumm mused to himself, stopping his evil laughter and instead reverting once again to pacing. "Well, dead bodies can't talk, can they?"

Bridge nodded in agreement. "If you can't control your own actions or do anything when dead, how can you talk?"

"Thank you for confirming a known fact for me, agent," Gruumm said, stopping his pacing at a place so both agents had to turn to see him. "So how will my secrets get out…when the only two mouths that would actually spill it out to the authorities are belonging to two dead agents?"

Bridge and Kat paled.

"You're going to kill us?" Bridge asked, horrified.

"Well, basically, yes," Gruumm said, shrugging. "You know, sacrifices must be made."

Once again, he burst out in random spouts of cackling, evil laughter, before finally regaining control of himself.

"While this has been a most engaging conversation, unfortunately for you two, it must end now. I have other things to do, business deals to think over, forms to sign, galaxies to take over and whatnot. Ciao," Gruumm said in goodbye.

He turned and proceeded to the exit of the room, his two guards following like obedient puppies. Albeit extra-large puppies who may as well have been walking armoured tanks with huge guns. The dozen Krybots and the two accompanying Blueheads who served as their leaders stepped forward as Gruumm exited the room with of all things, a jaunty wave at the two tied up agents and a good dose of evil, cackling laughter for good measure.

Just as suddenly however, he popped back in. "Kill the two agents, dispose of the bodies and evidence, and then clean up the mess," he instructed the Blueheads.

The two Blueheads themselves chuckled evilly as they turned to the two bound agents. The dozen other Krybots also closed in, completely surrounding them as Gruumm left the room, leaving the two agents behind to their grisly fates.


	17. Departure, Alcohol and Butter Knives

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: Okay, before you all mercilessly hunt me down and kill me for breaking a promise, I just want to say: it's not my fault! I had tonnes of stuff to do on Tuesday, when I was actually planning to get the rest of the chapter done. And if I hadn't gotten into arguments with a certain SOMEBODY, I might have gotten more done! You know who you are…

Okay, apart from that, when you've got atitle like this, you know something insane is going to happen! There's alsoa James Bond reference in here! It's actually pretty obvious I guess. Free cookie to those who can find it! And as a word of warning: the chapters will definitely be coming later now. I have three weeks before the final end-of-year exams, and with six exams on my back, writing time is going to be severely limited. And the next chapter will definitely be much shorter: it's another interlude chapter!

This time, I shall dedicate this chapter to…666theBANSHEE for being a great friend in the past couple of weeks. Cheers to you! And don't worry: everyone who knows/has reviewed more than a couple of times lately will definitely get a chapter dedication! Thanks to BB as well for beta-ing!

Read and review, and I'll see ya all next time! No promises about next update!

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

"_You know what I love about leaving a planet? How there's always those little shops you find around to buy those cute little souvenirs from so you can remember your stay."_

"_And a piece of my shuttle serves that purpose?"_

_S.P.D. Intelligence Agent Bridge Carson and Chimera Agent Katherine 'Kat' Manx prior to leaving Sorberus II_

* * *

**Time: 2141 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Undisclosed room in Gruumm Armaments Inc. factory, on Sorberus II**

"Well, isn't this just dandy," Bridge remarked as he struggled against the rope that was binding his wrists together.

Now he knew what it felt like to be trapped in this particular way like the good guys in those Saturday morning cartoons he had watched as a kid. And he didn't like the feeling one little bit as the Blueheads chuckled evilly and began to approach the two bound agents, drumming their fingers along the blade.

"You're telling me," Kat said, trying to pull away at the ropes with her nails, keeping an eye out for the two rapidly approaching Blueheads.

"Well, it was nice knowing you Kat," Bridge sighed as the Blueheads came within hacking range.

"It's not over just quite yet…" Kat replied, watching the Blueheads.

"What do you mean?" Bridge asked, confused.

"Just wait…and when I tell you to, lean forward as fast as you can," Kat replied.

"Okay…"

The Blueheads were now right in front of them, and one stepped forward, raising its blade.

"Now!" Kat yelled, and at the same time, both Bridge and herself leaned forwards as hard as they could, stretching the rope as the Bluehead, who happened to be aiming between the two of them, ended up cutting the rope for them.

The Chimera agent leapt up from the chair and roundhouse kicked the offending Bluehead in the head, knocking it away even as Bridge landed a kick against the other Bluehead's stomach. They both drew out hidden pistols and faced each other. Kat saw and blasted a Krybot behind Bridge, while Bridge in turn also saw and blasted a Krybot behind Kat.

"You owe me!" they both said in unison, before they were stopped by a pair of Krybots leaping at them.

Bridge ducked and rolled away, turning as he did so and blasting one of the Krybots away before Kat disposed of the other one. With ten more Krybots to go and potentially a pair of much tougher Blueheads the two of them steeled themselves, blasting away and backing off until they were back to back in the centre of the room, surrounded by the remaining six Krybots and a single Bluehead.

"Watch my back," Kat stated more than asked, as she shot forward.

"Only if you watch mine!" Bridge shouted back.

The two of them fought through the remainder of the Krybot execution squad, blasting and kicking away. Krybot remains littered the room, and Bridge saw another Krybot creep up behind Kat while she duelled with the Bluehead.

"Behind you!" he shouted in warning, shooting and destroying the Krybot even as Kat blasted the Bluehead into smithereens.

She glanced back behind her to see the smoking remains of the Krybot, and was about to say something when she noticed a Krybot sneaking behind Bridge.

"Duck," Kat said.

Bridge, instead of asking questions, ducked…just as a Krybot's blade swung over his head. Kat shot it twice, sending it crashing to the ground.

"Thanks," Bridge gratefully said, glancing around and noticing that they had just disposed of the remaining Krybots. "We'd better split, fast. My shuttle?"

"Agreed," Kat said, taking a breather. "Not much choice anyway."

The two of them once again bolted out of the room and this time, headed for Bridge's shuttle. Unlike the last time, the two of them didn't run into any hooligans who were intent on vandalising property, and when they reached Bridge's shuttle, there weren't any giant explosions that would've destroyed the shuttle.

"Uneventful, eh?" Bridge commented, as he seated himself in the pilot's seat and punching in commands into the onboard computer. "Where should we go?" he asked Kat, who had just finished securing the door and had walked into the cockpit.

"What's the nearest planet?" she asked back, securing herself to the seat.

"Gimme a moment," Bridge answered, tapping in more commands and waiting for the response. "Berua Theta, one of the major trading centres in this sector."

"Then that's where we're going."

As the shuttle lifted off the pad and blasted off for the depths of space and the refuge offered by a hotel room on Berua Theta, Gruumm and his two heavily armoured and armed 'puppies', receiving the transmission for help from one of the two doomed Blueheads, smashed into the room that the two agents and a dozen Krybots had inhabited minutes ago.

The trio were greeted with the sight of a Krybot massacre: Krybot parts were littered and scattered throughout the entire room. One of the Blueheads had its head removed from its body, another Krybot was in pieces, and another still had its upper body blasted into something that resembled the moon's surface. It was almost like a scene from a horror movie.

"No sign of the agents, Emperor," the distorted voice of one of his bodyguards said.

"Has the tracking device been placed?" Gruumm asked, walking around the room and kicking a few fried Krybot parts out of his path.

"As you requested," one of his guards said, walking up to him. The other one was at the doorway, holding his weapon as he kept an eye out for intruders.

"What forces do we have available?"

"A small contingent of militia on every civilised planet in this sector sir. They await your order and command."

"Good. Once you have located the beacon, order all militia forces on that planet to converge and kill the two agents," Gruumm ordered, giving the room once last disdainful glance before turning away with a swish of his cape. "Accelerate our plans, and prepare my shuttle to my headquarters."

The two bodyguards fell into line behind him, following his steps as he headed for his private shuttle.

* * *

**Time: 2357 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Landing Bay #52, Hotel Cosmic, Bruditas, capital city of Beura Theta**

"Hotel room for two please," Bridge politely asked the receptionist at the front desk.

Currently, he and Kat were standing in the lobby of one of the many hotels in Bruditas. They had chosen a hotel almost at random, both deciding that it didn't matter where they stayed as long as they were temporarily safe. To blend in a little more, both Kat and Bridge and taken off the military fatigues and in Kat's case, the armoured vest, bought something a little less…conspicuous before entering the hotel, packing the identifying garments in bags which they had found in Bridge's shuttle, before taking the uniforms with them.

"Names?"

"Bridge Carson, Katherine—"

"Kat Manx," Kat interrupted, and the receptionist raised her brow before typing it in.

"Here you go: Room 256, twelfth floor," the receptionist said, handing over the key.

"Thank you. Come on, let's go," Bridge said.

The walk and elevator ride proved to be incident-free. That was, until Bridge had opened the door, walked in followed by Kat, and discovered that there was only one king-sized bed.

"Is there another bed?" Bridge asked, glancing up slightly at Kat and dropping his bags on the floor, an action that was mirrored by Kat.

Kat sighed explosively. "This is your fault."

"How?"

"What did we look like when we stood there at the desk?"

"People? Bridge suggested.

"We looked like a couple!" Kat nearly shouted.

"But you didn't remind her either," Bridge pointed out, sending his own glare at Kat. "And some of your Black Ops tried to kill me remember?"

"And some of your S.P.D. people tried to kill me as well! How can I trust you?"

"So how can I trust you as well?"

"You know, I'm not even going to continue this conversation until I've had a shower," Kat said, holding up her hands.

"Fine," Bridge said, going to the small fridge to see what it held as Kat entered the (only) bathroom. "This isn't going to be a nice night…"

Finding a soft drink can inside along with a few others and even a bottle of Vodka, Bridge popped it open even as he heard the shower turn on, followed by the roar of water. Taking a gulp from the can, Bridge wandered over to the bed, and decided to claim the right side for himself. Removing his shoes and flopping back on the bed, after a few moments of sweet nothingness, Bridge took out the laptop that he carried in the bag, walked back over to the bed and turned it on, enduring the hellish sound of Microsoft's dominance over the software market. With a sigh, he began writing his report which Cruger needed ASAP.

* * *

**Time: 0025 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Commander Cruger's office, S.P.D. Central HQ, in orbit over Akaih VIII**

Despite only having been cleared for duty mere hours earlier, Commander Cruger found himself staying up late (though by some of his earlier standards, this was early) finishing up more reports. If anything, the pile seemed to have nearly tripled in size instead of growing smaller. Or maybe he just wasn't getting enough sleep.

"Sir? I've got a report coming in," his aide said, poking his head into Cruger's office. His eyes were red and he looked like he was ready to drop at any time. "I'll hand it to you when it's finished transferring."

"Thank you," Cruger said, skimming through a report from Sophie and Boom related to the usefulness of the prototypical EMP grenade that Bridge had field tested against The Assassin. As always, they needed more funding in order to develop versions that were better suited to being mass-produced.

He sighed as he realised that now he'd either have to pull funding away from other areas, such as upgrades for the various areas of the HQ, or worse, from the cadet training budget…

_No_.

He would not go that far to bolster their current arsenal, if it would mean having cadets who weren't trained to be the best. If anything, he'd prefer a large number of cadets equipped with somewhat outdated equipment than an army of poorly trained cadets with high-tech weapons, but Sophie and Boom had convinced him that they also needed to be well armed if they were to stand a chance against more modern threats…or rather, Sophie had convinced him of the advantages and need of a modernised army of cadets, while Boom had simply nodded furiously, agreeing with everything the cyborg was saying.

With a sigh, he scribbled down on a scrap piece of paper, which curiously enough had the Supreme Commander's handwriting at the front and was defaced many times in various ways a reminder to himself to send request for additional funding to 'improve S.P.D.'s many cadets, officers and Rangers capabilities in battle with additional hardware'.

He nearly chuckled at the line. That was one of his major excuses to get additional funding, and it had worked nearly every time. With that exceptionally cheerful thought in mind, Cruger set out to actually begin typing the funding request, instead of reading through and acknowledging a report from the Galactic Worker Safety and Hazards Committee about several strict new guidelines/rules about worker safety standards that everyone essentially had to follow.

As he was typing up the request, his aide came into the room again, holding a print out of a report.

"Sir, report from Agent Carson…says something about conquering the galaxy…" the aide said.

At this point in time, no one had really known what was going inside Cruger's head. The factors that possibly would've added to the possible jumble of thoughts inside his head may have been the earlier pirate attempt on his life when a dozen pirates ganged up on him with cutlasses and rifles used as clubs, or that the headache inside his head from attempting to calculate the damage done to the HQ caused it, or perhaps it was Supreme Commander Birdie Fowler…no one knew.

Or maybe it was simply because he had taken too much aspirin.

"Damn Ikean bastards! They're attempting to expand again, aren't they?" Cruger demanded. "Well, we'll put a stop to that! Get me the First, Second and Third Fleets on the double!"

"Sir, I don't think Ikea's attempting to expand," the aide began, but was cut off by a sleep-deprived Cruger.

"Then it's Starbucks again! Damn coffee-lovers trying to ensure market domination!" Cruger snarled, banging his fist against his table and sending papers flapping wildly to the floor. "Get me the First, Second and Third Fleet anyway!"

"Sir, I think you'd better read the report for yourself before jumping to conclusions," the aide hastily said, putting the report down before power walking out the door.

"Get some rest! You earned it," Cruger ordered, grabbing the report and skimming through it. "And not a word to anyone!"

* * *

**Time: 0037 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Room 256, twelfth floor, Hotel Cosmic, Bruditas, Berua Theta**

Bridge was lying on the bed that he soon was about to share with Kat, something that he wasn't sure if he dreaded or looked forward to. He held a book in his hands, and a pair of reading glasses was perched on his nose as he read through the book and contemplated the issue of bed sharing. Sure, Kat was pretty and all, but she was a Chimera agent, and he wasn't quite so sure what to make of it.

Then the door to the bathroom opened, and Kat walked out, drying her hair with a towel. She threw the damp towel onto a couch, and saw Bridge had taken up residence on the bed.

"Where am I going to sleep?" she asked, raising an eyebrow sceptically.

"This is my half of the bed," Bridge explained, gesturing to his half. "And this is your half of the bed."

Kat gave a small nod, preferring to sleep on half a bed (that had an admittedly cute agent in it as well a small part of her mind said) than a couch. Still dressed in a hotel-provided white, fluffy robe, she hit the controls for the lights, plunging the room into darkness.

"Hey, I was reading!" Bridge protested.

"And I need some more sleep," Kat replied. Bridge heard rustling as she undoubtedly fell into the bed. "Keep your hands to yourself as well."

"Well, sorry about the lack of a dividing line: I couldn't find anything that would divide the bed so I don't have to sleep next to someone whose friends tried to kill me," Bridge said. The lights suddenly turned back on, and nearly blinded him. "Hey! What're you trying to do?!"

"They're not my 'friends'!" Kat said, sitting up and drawing the covers across her chest as she glared at Bridge. "And besides, your friends tried to kill me!"

"So what if they had an S.P.D. badge? They could've taken out any cadet or Ranger, and then stole the badge!" Bridge countered, folding his arms across his chest.

"Explain how I saw a service number tattooed on one of their necks that ended in SPD-RC," Kat challenged. "That's a service code for your Rangers."

"Well, I have no bloody clue! And explain the Chimera badge I found! Aren't your Black Ops too 'professional' and well-trained to be killed by ordinary mercenaries?" Bridge hotly demanded. "And how do I know that you're not here to kill me?"

"I wasn't sent to kill you! And how would I know what's happening with the Black Ops? Hardly any of them are called friends, or even associates! Hell, more than half of them are my enemies!"

"That doesn't mean that you're not with them! You could me lying for all I know!" Bridge accused.

"Does it look like I can carry any weapons on me right now?" Kat nearly shouted. "Do I have to get up and strip to get you to understand that I don't carry any weapons on me right now?"

Bridge paused, nearly accepting Kat's answer before a horrifying thought came to him, influenced by his watching of spy movies when he was younger. "You could be trying to pull off a Xenia Onatopp on me!" he shouted, quickly scrambling off the bed.

"What do you do mean? And who the hell is 'Xenia Onatopp'?" Kat asked, confused.

"A scary fictional person," Bridge said, still staying away from Kat and the bed. "Very scary indeed."

"I am not going to kill you! How many times do I have to say it?!"

"Why were your Black Ops trying to kill me then?"

"I told you already: _I. Do. Not. Know_!" Kat shouted.

"Well, maybe you do!" Bridge shouted back, forgetting about nightmares of chests being crushed and leaning in closer until they were centimetres apart to reinforce his words.

"I do not!" Kat angrily shouted, getting closer herself.

"Yes, you d—…"

At this point, Bridge's sentence was abruptly cut off when he leaned forward again, an action that was mirrored by Kat. Unfortunately, either he or Kat had misjudged the distance between them (given their very emotional shouting match, finding the exact distance wasn't one of their top priorities), and they ended up pressing their lips together. Shocked, both of them failed to do anything as they tried to register the new development, before they both pulled away at the same time, shocked, dazed and breathless.

Kat was the first one to manage to assemble her thoughts in a coherent manner after their unintentional lip-lock. "Never…do…that…again!" she managed to get out between deep breaths and attempts to still her rapidly beating heart while her face reddened.

Bridge only faintly nodded, still in a semi-state of shock. It was only when his laptop beeped that he snapped out of it.

Scrambling back into bed while Kat shot him a bewildered look as she moved over slightly, Bridge tapped a few buttons on the laptop, and his eyes widened when he saw that it was Commander Cruger who wanted a video conference.

"Carson!" Cruger barked almost instantly as Bridge accepted the call, before being stunned into momentary silence as Kat sidled into view. "What the _hell_ have you been doing?!"

"S—sir, I can explain!" Bridge stammered, his face going red.

Luckily for him however, Kat, whose face was also reddened, butted in.

"Sir, I'm Katherine Manx, a Chimera agent," she said. "We found ourselves working on a mutual case, and had to escape from an ambush together. I was just in the shower before, which hopefully explains my state of dress."

"Or lack of it…" Cruger grumbled. "…given our mutual predicament and the fact that Sphinxians like yourself have ultra-sensitive hearing, there is no point from excluding you," Cruger sighed. "So listen up."

Both Kat and Bridge straightened up a bit more, paying more attention.

"Your report was very detailed Bridge…and from it as well as the included files you sent, we have enough information and evidence to land Gruumm a very long sentence behind bars for illegal arms dealing, possession of illegal weaponry…murder and intent to rule the galaxy, and the list keeps on going," Cruger said, glancing down briefly.

"Thank you sir," Bridge said modestly.

"All that's left for us to do now is to actually nab Gruumm. However, when we attempted to contact him using both his corporate headquarters' communicator number and his private number, neither replied, or in the headquarters' case, said that he wasn't there," Cruger told them, before facing Kat. "Not a word of this conversation gets out of that room, understand?"

"Yes sir," Kat nodded.

"Now, since we haven't been able to contact Gruumm, we're assuming that he's somewhere, most likely one of his secret fortresses. We don't know which one, but I'll make sure to contact you once we do find him."

"You want me to take him in?" Bridge asked in shock.

"You will lead an operation to take Gruumm into custody, yes. That is all Bridge; good luck. Cruger out," Cruger said, as he signed off.

"…okay, so what do we do—…" Bridge started after Cruger had signed out, but was abruptly interrupted by Kat.

"Mind if I borrow that? I need to talk to my own superior," Kat asked.

Bridge shrugged, and let Kat move the laptop over to her lap. "Only if I get to listen as well," he added.

Kat nodded as she typed in the number of Beutat's office communicator. "Turn away," she ordered, tapping in her authorisation code as Bridge faced the comparatively bare wall.

"We could do with some decorations for this place," he commented. "And how long is your code?!"

"Done," Kat said, hitting the 'enter' key and activating a video link to Beutat's office.

Instantly, the four people who were now involved in the conversation were all simultaneously shocked at the sight of each other. Rather, Kat was shocked to see that Felix was also in the office, and Bridge was shocked at how un-Commander like the Chimera commander was. Felix and Beutat were both shocked three things: Kat's sudden call, the presence of another person with her, and perhaps most shocking of all, that _they both appeared to be naked. _

"Kat! What're you doing?!" the two men shouted at her, while Bridge looked confused, and Kat rolled her eyes.

"What does it look like?" she snapped, much to the shock of all of them.

"Kat, this is an unprecedented breach of…"

"What the heck were you thinking…"

"I'm joking!" Kat shouted over their protests.

An audible sigh of relief was breathed from the occupants of Beutat's office, for entirely different reasons.

"So, who is that? You're eavesdropping on private, top-secret Chimera information pal! Bugger off before we're forced to arrest you!" Beutat said, shaking a fist at Bridge.

"He's S.P.D.," Kat corrected, moments before Bridge could say anything.

"Yeah…what she said," he said lamely. "Don't worry: I won't say a word to anyone outside the room we're in."

Beutat tersely and reluctantly nodded, while Felix just looked on.

"Okay, then what is this about, Agent Manx?" Beutat asked, doing his best to ignore Bridge.

_When was the last time he had called me that?_ Kat couldn't but wonder with a barely suppressed smirk: maybe Bridge _was _useful for something after all.

Kat quickly explained to Beutat what had happened, from the ambush at the factory, to the discovery of Chimera badges, and the ambush by Gruumm's guards. Bridge nodded, mainly listening to Kat talk, and feeling more than a little annoyed that he was being treated as though he wasn't here.

"This is disturbing," Beutat said, stroking his chin and looking thoughtful. "Get back to the Phoenix ASAP Kat. Beutat out."

The screen flicked off, and Kat promptly erased all records of the conversation from the laptop. Once that was finished, she slid it back to Bridge.

"Thank you," she said, her tone a lot less frostier than it had been before and indeed more welcoming

"It…it's no problem," Bridge said, as the feelings of hatred, fear and suspicion slowly died away, to be replaced instead by yet another uncomfortable silence that was soon to be the trademark of their meetings. He carefully slid the laptop off the bed and onto the small bedside table on his side.

The two of them sat up in the bed, still reluctant to look at each other for more than a few seconds: Kat was still mostly naked, which contributed to Bridge's determination not to glance at her.

"We'd better get some rest," Bridge heard her say. Surprised, he turned to face her.

"I thought you had to report back to your base," he asked, confused.

"We've already paid for the room, so why not use it? Besides, he can wait," Kat said, turning onto her side and pulling the sheets over her. "Goodnight, and turn off the lights."

Bridge shook his head, before reaching for the light controls. A button press later, and the room was plunged into darkness as he settled into the bed, next to an already sleeping Kat.

* * *

**Time: 0714 hours, galactic standard time, the following morning / Location: Room 256, twelfth floor, Hotel Cosmic, Bruditas, Berua Theta**

The early hours of the morning had come and gone, leaving behind bright sunlight which filtered into the room. The two occupants of the room were already up and refreshed, one of them walking around the room, while Kat was fixated on changing the power settings of her pistol, while Bridge…did something; she was too busy to look up and watch his movements.

When the sound of Bridge stopping at the bed reached her ears, Kat looked up, and didn't so much as blink when the S.P.D. agent dumped a pair of bags on the bed, while crunching away at a piece of toast.

"What are you doing?" she asked, putting the pistol away.

"Eating toast," Bridge replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the galaxy.

"Apart from consuming breakfast items," Kat said, raising her brow.

"It's not just any breakfast item! It's toast! It's _buttery_ toast!" Bridge protested, waving the slice about and wriggling his fingers of his right hand as he said 'buttery'. All of which caused Kat to look even more sceptical.

"Did you know that there is a difference between buttered toast and buttery toast?" Bridge continued, taking another bite.

Kat shook her head. "Sorry: I'm not a breakfast item specialist. And what are those bags for?"

"We're leaving, aren't we?" Bridge said. "So I'm packing up."

Again Kat shrugged, and got up and was about to holster her pistol when suddenly the room door burst open, and a pair of people with guns entered.

"Emperor Gruumm demands your death!" they shouted, and was about to shoot when Kat shot one of them.

The other one however, pulled the trigger and sent a storm of lasers flying about the room. Furniture was chewed up and lit on fire from the intense heat of the lasers as Kat dove inside the bathroom for cover, whilst Bridge dove the other way and landed near the small fridge, his pistol tumbling out and landing on the floor in front of the attacker. The rifle was turned against Kat, who found herself pinned inside the bathroom as the doorframe was blasted with lasers.

"Damn it Bridge: do something!" Kat shouted from the room over the sound of lasers and maniacal laughing from the attacker.

"I don't have a weapon!" Bridge frantically shouted back, searching for something—anything!—that would serve as a weapon. Charging at an armed opponent was hardly at the top of his 'to-do' list after all. At last, his gaze fell upon the mini-fridge next to him. If he could throw a soft drink can hard enough…

When he opened the door, Bridge was about to reach for one of the numerous soft drink cans when he noticed the bottle of vodka. Or better, the _glass_ bottle _full_ of vodka.

"This should do the trick," he said to himself, grabbing the bottle by the neck.

The attacker was pressing forwards now, constantly keeping Kat pinned while manoeuvring to a place where he could also finally get a clear shot at her. In his haste to eliminate Kat, he had forgotten all about Bridge. The S.P.D. agent leapt out from cover, and threw the bottle as hard as he could. Spinning through the air, the bottle connected with the back of the attacker's head with a solid _clunk_. The person stopped moving, swayed a little on the spot before collapsing into a pile.

Kat poked her head out of the room, and once ascertained that the area was clear, stepped out. Bridge was already at the bed, opening his bag and pulling out his uniform.

"No point in hiding anymore," he said.

Nodding, Kat grabbed her bag, and went back inside the bathroom to change as Bridge pulled on his S.P.D.-issued jacket. Kat came out not two minutes later, dumping the bag on the bed and pulling out her armoured vest, pulling it on and zipping it up.

"Let's get out of here," Kat said, throwing the bag over her shoulders and preparing her laser pistol.

"My shuttle?"

"Where else?"

"…let's go."

As Kat checked to make sure the hallway was clear, Bridge quickly searched the unconscious form of the attacker for anything that may be even remotely useful.

"Come on!" Kat hissed from the door. "We've got to get out of here before more of them come!"

"Right," Bridge said, getting up and starting for the door as Kat disappeared into the corridor. He paused briefly, and glanced down at the attacker he had knocked out, the bottle of vodka still nearby.

"Alcohol is bad for you!" Bridge said, pointing at the attacker before turning around and running out the door.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Bridge and Kat were almost to freedom, catching their breath at the bottom of the staircase. In the twenty minutes it had taken them to go from their room to their current place, they had shot, battled, ran, punched and kicked through what seemed like endless tides of attackers appearing out of nowhere. They sprang out of the rooms, dropped out of ventilation shafts, and in one memorable incident, one of them had hidden inside a soft drink vendor, bursting out of it, and succeeding in surprising the two agents…but only to be foiled by the cans of carbonated drinks rolling about the floor. He had slipped, and fell on his back, where both Kat and Bridge proceeded to land a kick on him, rendering him unconscious.

That led to their current predicament, as Bridge peered out one of the windows on the door. He nearly groaned when he saw that there were another three people armed with rifles and pistols guarding the exit and entrance to the lobby.

"What?" Kat asked, taking a look for herself and seeing the same sight. "...how many shots do you have left?"

Bridge checked his pistol, and wasn't too happy when he saw that it read that he only had enough power left for one more laser. "Just one."

Kat glanced down at hers. "One as well."

"Maybe if we can take one of them out with one shot each, we might be able to take the last one," Bridge said, looking contemplative.

"One of us is going to be shot that way," Kat pointed out.

"It's the best plan we've got, short of going back to get their weapons…why don't we do that?" Bridge suggested.

"Because it'll waste too much time. And besides," Kat said, taking another look though the window. "I've got a plan."

"Which is?"

"Stay here, and don't do anything," Kat answered.

She pushed open the door, which made a loud noise as it opened. Bridge dodged to the side, and avoided being seen while Kat stood in full view.

"Look! It's her!" one of the three said, pointing at Kat, who for her part, simply smiled and raised her hands.

"Okay…you got me," Kat said, sauntering forward, still smiling. "I'll do whatever you want: just don't shoot me, please?"

"Put the gun down," they ordered.

Kat tossed her pistol to the floor and straightened up.

"You three look tired…" Kat continued, slowly moving to a plush couch, even as they followed her, guns raised but not shooting. She sat down, and deliberately crossed her legs, hands behind her head. "Why don't you come here for a…break?"

"What do you want?" they asked.

"Come a little closer, and I'll tell you," Kat said with a sly grin. They inched a bit closer. "Closer."

Again, another few centimetres.

"Closer still," Kat said, still smiling. "You can come closer; I won't bite."

They moved closer, until they were nearly bumping Kat's leg.

Kat grinned, and leaned forward. One of the three also leaned towards her, and she whispered into his ear.

"Do you want me? Then you're going to have to get me!" Kat said, before headbutting the person in the stomach.

"Ooh!" he grunted, recoiling and collapsing to the floor in pain.

At the same time, Kat flung both her arms out, and struck the other two across the head, knocking them unconscious. Moments later, Bridge bolted out from his hiding place, and looked at the three unconscious guards.

"…good plan," he admitted.

"Thanks. Let's go," Kat said, and the two of them ran out of the lobby and towards Bridge's shuttle.

Twenty metres from the shuttle and freedom, another person stepped in their way.

"Halt!" the person squeakily said, raising a shaking rifle and pointing at the two of them.

"Not another one," Kat groaned. "It's bad enough seducing three pigheaded men already, but four?"

"Don't talk! Get back!" the person squeaked, obviously very timid and afraid.

"How old are you?" Bridge asked.

"Not your place to talk!" he said again.

"Well kid," Bridge said, and pulled out a butter knife from his jacket. "Did you know that I, using this knife, can butter up to…around twenty slices of toast in a minute? That includes getting the butter onto the knife and then the toast. So if I can do that, imagine what I can do to you."

The kid stared at Bridge for a few moments, then at the knife he was holding, and then back at Bridge again. Then he broke down, threw down the rifle and ran for his life, screaming all the while.

"That went well," Bridge said, carefully putting the knife back inside his jacket.

"You counted how many pieces of toast you could butter in a minute?" Kat looked incredulous.

"I got bored! And are we getting out of here or what?" Bridge said, walking up the ramp of the shuttle.


	18. Fish out of the Water

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: Gah, sorry about the long wait again! I've just had a hell of a crap week, and with exams and all, and with six of them, my writing time was thrown straight out the window. Funnily enough, what I imagined to be a fairly short (two thousand word-ish chapter) turned out to be quite a bit more substantial. And unfortunately, a bit of a filler as well…never fear though! After this, the fillers won't exist anymore! We're getting right along with this story now.

No chapter dedication this time, simply because it would've been insulting to dedicate such a short chapter to someone who's stuck by for the whole time.

A happy birthday to 666theBANSHEE!!!! Triple hip, hurray! All I need is for someone to bring the candles and cake now…

A big thanks goes to BB for betaing....again. Cheers! Remember to read this story, to enjoy this story, and also very importantly, to review this story! See you guys and gals next time whenever that is!

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

"_I guess you could say that this point in time was nearly the beginning of the final chapter of the story so to say. We were going after the main bad guy…who knew that there was more to come?" _

_S.P.D. Intelligence Agent Bridge Carson, three months after the end of the EyeNet Incident _

* * *

**Time: 0818 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Bridge of S.P.D. shuttle under loan to Bridge Carson, S.P.D. Intelligence**

"Where are we going?" Kat flatly asked as the shuttle rocketed along through space. Strapped into the co-pilot's seat, her arms folded across her chest, she was quite clearly none-too-happy as Bridge flew the shuttle. When the two of them had lifted off the planet, there was another argument between them about who was more qualified to fly the shuttle. Eventually it was Bridge who had won, after claiming that it was his shuttle, and that no one else was as qualified to fly the S.P.D. shuttle other than S.P.D. personnel, of which he was part of. Kat had conceded afterwards, and now was supremely pissed.

"Our headquarters. Where else?" Bridge said, not looking at her.

"Why there? Why not just drop me off somewhere so they can pick me up?"

"Because I don't know where, and I think our commander can organise something for you," Bridge answered.

"It's not like I can't organise my own lift back to base," Kat huffed.

"Well, you can organise when we get back to the base: I'd rather not stop right now," Bridge said, with a glance at the radar screen.

Even with their current argument and hatred of each other, Kat couldn't help but agree on that particular point. Gruumm had always been known for being a persistent person: it was because of his persistence that his company was now the largest in the weapons market and that his company's logo was branded on nearly forty percent of the galaxy's manufactured military vehicles. He certainly wasn't going to let two agents go all that easily, especially since the two of them held information about his secret, insidious agenda. And he definitely would have backup contingency plans: being a CEO of a galactic superpower in market terms essentially forced him to have backup plans for everything, from stock crashes to shuttle breakdowns in the middle of nowhere. And two agents from S.P.D., Chimera or even both discovering his plans would most definitely be one thing he would've thought about. The only real question for the two of them was what Gruumm was planning to do about it, and _when_.

With that highly disturbing thought in their minds, Bridge and Kat suffered the uneasy silence between them, only broken by the sounds of the engines working overtime as Bridge pushed them to the limits. The occasional beeping of a console came through, and they both glanced at the offending instrument as long as it took for them to realise that it was nothing, before resuming their previous activities of either piloting the shuttle in Bridge's case, or looking at the scanners and out the windows constantly in Kat's case as she tried to make sense of the past day or so.

"We're almost there," Bridge broke in suddenly, shaking Kat out of her reverie.

"Great…another minute in this shuttle would have driven me insane," Kat remarked snappily.

"And you're not exactly the best company either," Bridge shot back, even as the radar screen blinked and beeped with the detection of something in front of them. "At last."

The massive figure of the S.P.D. Central HQ began as a small sliver of shining metal, silhouetted against the blank blackness of space. However, the closer the small shuttle holding the two agents came, the bigger the station became. The station began to grow in size, until it reached massive proportions compared to the very miniscule shuttle. Dozens of laser batteries, each one comparable to a howitzer in size, tracked the shuttle, causing Kat and even Bridge to feel very nervous. The gunnery officers and crews of those massive guns were trained to ignore all symbols and insignias, and to treat everyone who came within spitting distance of the station as hostile. Bridge knew this, and it was making him sweat as his identification code was checked over a dozen times, as a multitude of scanners scanned the shuttle for anything out of the ordinary.

"Are they really this paranoid?" Kat asked in annoyance as Bridge was forced to give the correct response to a code.

"Well…it is our headquarters," Bridge responded. "Umm…wait a sec, its toffee and apple," he said into the communicator.

"Clearance confirmed. Welcome back, Agent Carson," the voice greeted. "Please proceed to Landing Bay Twelve."

"Thanks," Bridge said, even as the coordinates to the designated landing bay was transmitted to his shuttle's flight computer. Not that he needed them: already he had memorised just about every landing bay in the station.

"You'd better come with me and talk to the commander before you go anywhere," Bridge told Kat as he flew the shuttle towards the opening bay.

"Of course: wouldn't want to be shot for trespassing," Kat said.

"They wouldn't do that! They'd probably detain you, but that's about it," Bridge protested.

"I know: it was a joke," Kat deadpanned.

"Oh. I knew that," Bridge said, before hastily turning his attention away from a moody Kat and back to the task at hand: guiding the shuttle to the appropriate landing slot.

Passing through the atmospheric shield that kept the atmosphere inside and therefore everyone aboard the station alive gracefully, the sight of dozens of technicians scrambling around the docking station greeted Kat and Bridge. Four other S.P.D. shuttles, in perfect polished perfection and working order hung from the ceiling of the bay, held by gigantic claw-like mechanical arms. Catwalks rung around the shuttles, more for the purposes of basic checkups rather than for repairing or boarding: that was what the repair bay next door was for. Four landing slots were on the floor though, arranged in a square, and the coordinates that had been sent to Bridge dictated that he was to land in the upper right of the square. Even more technicians hurried out the landing shuttle's path, clearing a three metre by three metre square around his designated spot as he manoeuvred the shuttle closer until it was just above the square. Ten seconds later, the shuttle had made a textbook perfect landing, directly in the square and complete with even spacing between all the sides to the edges of the shuttle.

"_Someone's_ read the flight manual a bit _too_ much," Kat remarked scathingly as she unbuckled her harness and stood up.

"Oh come on, are you still mad? Truce," Bridge offered again, holding his hand out.

"Another one?"

"Why not?"

"I wasn't aware that the other truce we had was…terminated," Kat said, glancing at the door.

"It was when we started arguing again," Bridge replied, standing as well after unbuckling himself.

"Fine then," Kat agreed, shaking Bridge's hand and beginning yet another truce between the two agents. And hopefully this time, one that would last more than a few days.

The two of them walked out of the shuttle, the door hissing and emitting smoke from its systems as it lifted, partially bathing the two agents in it, and giving them an awe-inspiring entrance as they exited. The technicians looked up to see the two figures stroll out of the smoke with pistols strapped to their hips.

"Agent," one of the technicians acknowledged, followed by the murmurings of 'hello Sir' by the other techs.

"Heya," Bridge greeted, smiling as he walked past them with Kat.

"Who's that?" another tech asked, obviously directing his question at Kat.

"She's Chimera," Bridge spoke up before Kat could say anything.

"Good day ma'am," the lead technician said.

Kat just nodded her head, smiling ever-so-slightly while she did so. Following Bridge out of the landing bay, she couldn't help but look around at the pristine walls, doors and everything in general that she saw along the path that Bridge was taking her. A number of times she earned the odd glance, the appreciative look and even a wolf-whistle. That person was very quickly shut up by his team mates.

"Where are we going?" she asked, looking down slightly at Bridge.

"To the Commander's office," Bridge replied.

"And why exactly are you taking me there? I'd be a bit worried about what information could be leaked about the layout of the place," Kat sceptically pointed out.

"He'd probably force you to sign some non-disclosure statement or something along the lines of that," Bridge shrugged, and continued walking. "Legal bindings that forbid you to reveal anything about the base."

"How do they enforce it?"

"They check up on you quite a lot, but since you're Chimera, there really shouldn't be too much trouble: after all, we work together," Bridge said, entering the lobby and stopping at the receptionist's desk. "Hey Lisa."

"Heya big boy," Lisa flirtatiously said, giving Bridge a massive wink. "How're you doing? Got any plans after this? Maybe join me for a nice, quiet dinner?"

Kat raised her brow at Bridge, who glanced back and shrugged.

"Actually, I need to take Ms. Manx here around after talking to the Commander," he revealed. "And I'm just here to sign in."

"Oh…well…sure!" Lisa said, hiding behind a false smile. "Maybe you can join me for dinner after."

"Oh, I got plans later on," Bridge said. "And sign Katherine Manx in as a Chimera guest, please?"

"…alright," Lisa said with a massive, exaggerated sigh. "I guess I'll be spending the night lonely again."

"Good for you," Kat remarked as she walked past, following Bridge into the corridor beyond. She was stopped however, when a hand shot out and grabbed her arm.

"Listen to me you little bitch," Lisa hissed at Kat. "That agent is _mine_! Do you get me? _Mine_!"

"…please remove your hand from my arm before I remove it for you," Kat said, looking Lisa straight in the eye as the receptionist complied, not liking the look in the Chimera agent's eye. "Thank you."

"Hey Kat, are you coming or what?!" Bridge shouted from further down the hall.

"Coming, coming," she sighed, jogging down after the S.P.D. agent and catching up after a few hurried seconds of running.

"So…what did Lisa want?" Bridge asked, now walking alongside Kat.

"Just a little girl-to-girl talk," Kat answered, shaking her head slightly. "Is she always so possessive of you?"

"What do you mean?"

"…you haven't noticed her flirting?"

"Of course I have! A dead man buried two hundred metres under the ground could notice her flirting!" Bridge exclaimed.

"So why don't you go out with her?"

"Not my type," Bridge shrugged simply.

Kat let the issue drop soon after that, as the door to the Commander and Co-Commander's room loomed up ahead. A smaller number of people passed them, most of them wearing the uniform of an S.P.D. officer. Security cameras tracked their progress across the hallway, and Kat didn't doubt for a second that there were numerous hidden turrets waiting to be activated by an unwary intruder. Bridge stopped in front of the door and looked at Kat.

"You ready?" he asked.

"Let's just get it over with," she sighed.

Bridge tapped in his code on the door, and after authorising him, the speaker on the panel blared.

"Name and reason for being here," the voice of Cruger's aide came through.

"Agent Bridge Carson, along with Chimera agent Katherine Manx to see the Commander," Bridge responded.

"The Commander is not here. Hold please: Co-Commander Tate is coming out to meet you," the disembodied voice said, before the speaker shut with an audible _click_.

Both agents took a few paces back away from the door, composing themselves. The door opened a few moments later. Co-Commander Sky Tate came out, the door hissing shut behind him as he glanced at the two agents.

"Bridge, glad to see you still in one piece," Sky said, patting Bridge's shoulder.

"Glad to be alive," Bridge replied. "Oh and this is Katherine Manx, the Chimera agent."

"Katherine Manx? The Chimera agent?" Sky asked in near disbelief at he glanced at Kat, who snapped off a quick Chimera salute, reminiscent of the old military salute from the days of old.

"Yes sir. Do you want confirmation?" she asked, reaching for her ID.

"I'll take your word for it," Sky answered, looking her over. He didn't seem too particularly impressed. "What are you here for?"

"We were ambushed at the same site, and Agent Carson kindly offered me a lift here where we could arrange a shuttle for me," Kat shrugged.

"Can't you contact them and have them pick you up elsewhere?"

"The shuttle's communicator wasn't powerful enough and neither is my personal one. Our HQ could be over on the other side of the Galaxy for all I know," Kat answered.

"Alright…follow me later and we'll arrange it with your Commander," Sky said. "In the mean time…well, I hope you've brought a book to read."

"Uh, I can take her for a small tour of some of the facilities we have here," Bridge offered. "That is, if you don't have anything else for me to do?"

Sky shook his head. "Just not into the restricted areas Bridge, but apart from that, it's fine."

"When do you need Kat back?" Bridge asked, starting off down the corridor with Kat in tow.

"In about half an hour: that's when we expect to be connected to your Commander," Sky answered.

"Alright, see ya Sky," Bridge waved.

"Interesting person," Kat commented as they made their way down the halls.

Bridge shrugged. "Do you want to see the main lab?"

"Is that a restricted area?" Kat cautiously asked, keeping pace with Bridge.

"Well…right now it's probably more like a testing lab more than anything else," Bridge said. "But it should be alright."

"If you say so," Kat said reluctantly.

The two of them continued walking, with Bridge slightly in front of Kat as to lead her to the right place. Within a few minutes, the two of them had reached the lab, where they heard the sounds of a commotion happening inside. Sharing a concerned glance, the two of them placed their hands on the butts of their pistols, just in case. Approaching the door, Bridge went for the access panel but was surprised when the door opened as soon as he got close.

Sharing another glance with Kat, Bridge went inside with Kat close behind, and they were suddenly greeted with the sight of smoke filling up the lab.

"What happened here?" Kat wondered aloud, taking another step inside the smoke-filled depths of the lab.

She was very startled when suddenly, out of the smoke came a large, baby-faced man who looked extremely panicky. He crashed into a stunned Kat, sending both of them to the floor while Bridge himself was shocked. Somehow, despite the fact that he had run into Kat, the two ended up on the floor with Kat on top of his chest.

"What the heck?!" Bridge exclaimed. "Boom, what happened?"

"I was eheheh," the technician let out a nervous chuckle, "having a barbeque, that's all…yeah, a barbeque."

"Somehow, I doubt that a barbeque can produce that much smoke," Kat said as she rolled off Boom's chest and got to her feet. Brushing herself down first, she then extended a hand towards Boom, who gladly accepted.

"Thanks, and sorry about the whole running-into-you thing," Boom said, with a nervous smile.

"It's alright…but what were you doing back there?" Kat asked.

Before Boom could say anything, the door opened again. This time, a youngish girl stood at the doorway, her blonde hair done into two pigtails down her back.

"Boom!" Sophie exclaimed. "What have you done this time?!"

"I was working on the new robotic arm we were developing, and, and, and I kind of—kinda wired it wrong—wrongly," the flustered technician tried to explain. "So it went haywire and starts to like…really jerk around, trying to hit things…or people…"

Muttering something under her breath, Sophie stalked into the depths of the smoke, the other three occupants of the room cautiously following her. When they emerged from the smoke cloud, they were greeted with the sight of Sophie standing behind a deactivated robot arm. The arm itself hung limply on its mounting, and the head scientist at S.P.D. Central HQ was standing behind it, glancing at its workings before walking over to the assembled trio. The occasional spark still did pop out of the many exposed wires, but at least it had stopped moving about wildly.

"Have we met? Oh sorry! I haven't introduced myself," Sophie laughed when she saw Kat, and extended an arm. "I'm Sophie, head scientist around here."

"Katherine Manx, Chimera agent: Bridge decided to give me a guided tour," Kat said, answering the unasked question of why she was here.

"You're Chimera?" Boom blurted out from her side.

"Yes," Kat answered. "Nice to meet you."

"Boom," the technician introduced.

"Care to take me around?" Kat asked with a winning smile, and Boom suddenly found himself blushing.

"Ummm…sure, I'd lik—I mean, I'd love, ah, I guess?" Boom stuttered. Kat couldn't help a small, girlish giggle as she latched onto Boom's arm, allowing the technician to lead her through the lab.

Bridge noticed this, and found a strange feeling welling up inside himself as he took in the exchange, Kat's giggling (she sounded more like a young teenager than a battle-hardened agent) and the way she grabbed onto Boom's arm as he led her through the lab. Sophie came up next to him, and began to talk about robot arms, Boom's tendencies for disasters and whatnot. He wasn't listening to her monologue/rant much though: his attention was being stolen by the way Boom acted around Kat and vice versa. When the two of them had moved beyond his sight, hidden simply by the masses of vials holding a number of different chemicals, he tried to listen in on their conversation.

"Bridge? Headquarters to Bridge…" Sophie said, waving a hand in front of his face. "Central HQ to Bridge, come in please…"

"Huh? Wha?" Bridge asked, confused at being snapped out of his thoughts and back to reality.

"You zoned out on me for a second. Did I really bore you that much?" Sophie asked with an amused smile.

"Umm, not really—I mean no! Of course not!" he hastily corrected himself.

Sophie shook her head as she continued to talk about the various improvements that she was in the middle of doing. Longer life power cells for the Delta Enforcers (which tended to run dry exceptionally quickly when used on higher power settings and on automatic), better reflective/absorptive armour, equipment to even a few experimental items of a much less military-orientated use were apparently just the few she was working on now. Even as she chatted away (for the head scientist at the HQ and a secret cyborg, she could be remarkably talkative), Bridge found his attention once again being stolen by the sudden reappearance of Boom and Kat from the other side of the room. The normally clumsy technician was entertaining Kat with several stories of his many lab exploits gone wrong, and the Chimera agent for her part seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself.

_Keep it together, don't mind them, just them being social,_ Bridge thought to himself, sparing the occasional glance at whatever work Sophie was doing. _Think of…toast! Toast and butter, toast and butter, toast and butter, toast and butter, Kat and toast, Kat and toast, Kat and butter…Kat with butter, Kat on butter…damn it!_ he mentally scolded himself.

"Something wrong Bridge?" Sophie asked.

"Uh, nothing, nothing at all. Just looking around," Bridge lied through his teeth.

"Whatever you say." She certainly didn't sound convinced.

Then Kat and Boom reached them, and Sophie looked up. A perceptive person, it didn't take long for her to join the dots between Bridge's moodiness and Kat and Boom's fun. But nevertheless, she refrained from commenting. Much to everyone's surprise, it was Kat who spoke up.

"Well, it's been fun and nice knowing you Boom. I'd stay a bit longer to talk, but Bridge probably has other places he wants to show me," she said with a smile, before glancing at the agent. "Don't you, Bridge?"

"Of course," Bridge confirmed. "And we don't have much time left either."

"It's nice knowing you," Kat shook hands with Sophie, before turning to Boom. "Take care," she said, and tousled his hair the way an older sister would do affectionately to a younger sibling.

"Bye," Boom waved as Bridge led a smiling Kat out.

"What do you want to see next?" Bridge asked, walking alongside Kat again.

"Wherever you think is interesting," Kat said, still feeling cheerful, something she hadn't felt in a long time.

Bridge raised his eyebrow, but didn't say anything as he led Kat around for the next twenty minutes. Part of his mind was still fixated on his mantra gone wrong and why, while the other part was more focused on reality. Kat seemed interested in the various departments that were located in the S.P.D. Central HQ, and despite her status as the top Chimera agent, was exceptionally polite for a person who had brought galactic terrorist rings to their knees. However, that was brought to an end when Bridge's communicator buzzed, whilst the two were walking down another corridor to another section of the station.

"Bridge here," he sighed as he snatched it up from his belt and flipped it open. Kat stopped walking, stayed silent and paid some attention to what was being said. "Uhuh…alright, we'll be there in a sec. Bridge out."

With another sigh, he closed the communicator and placed it back into its place on his belt.

"Time to go," he announced to Kat, who nodded.

"Lead the way," she replied, following Bridge again. "Who was that anyway?"

"Sk—I mean, the Co-Commander," Bridge corrected himself, blushing slightly. "He says that the link to your Commander is almost ready. Just follow me to the room where the link is being set up, and I assume that you can organise something from there."

"Alright…thank you," Kat said, surprising Bridge: her demeanour had changed rapidly during the last few hours, from her sarcastic and scathing remarks to a much more lively and fun persona.

"It's…not a problem," Bridge said.

They reached the door to the designated communications room not long after. A pair of cadets stood guard outside in the classic 'S.P.D. guard duty' stance: feet spread apart, both arms behind the back with hands clasped together and chin up. Their pistols remained in their holsters, but were quite clearly visible.

"Identification," one of them ordered curtly as Bridge and Kat stopped. The latter gave the former an odd glance, before displaying her Chimera badge whilst Bridge showed them his own.

"Identity confirmed. You may proceed," one of the guards said in a monotone voice.

"I'll just wait out here for you," Bridge told Kat. "Privacy and all."

"Alright," Kat nodded as she entered the room.

Each one of the communication rooms had large screen along with the controls necessary to control them. Upon entering, Kat saw that Co-Commander Tate was already there, tapping away at the controls. He turned around to face her, and naturally, she saluted again.

"Agent Manx, reporting as you wished, sir," she said.

Sky nodded. "The link has been connected, and is passing to your Commander now. I'll take my leave."

"Thank you sir."

Sky left the room, the door closing behind him moments before the screen flickered to life, showing a very shocked Beutat.

"Kat! You're still alive?!" he exclaimed, before shutting his mouth and correcting himself. "I mean, it's good to see you…alive, after all, what happened and all."

"Yes sir…I need a convenient place to be taken to the _Phoenix_. I daresay that you don't want many in S.P.D. to know its location," Kat said.

"Of course not…we'll drop in close to your location and send a shuttle right away. Stay there Kat: we'll be there soon. Beutat out."

The link closed, and Kat could not help but wonder about what Beutat had said. If he was here soon, it meant that the _Phoenix_ itself was relatively close to the station. It was nearly an un-stated law that the S.P.D. Central HQ and the _Phoenix_ remained nearly at opposite ends of the galaxy unless conducting operations. Even so, rarely was there reason for the two headquarters to be closer than two systems apart, as so to keep their influence across the galaxy. So why was the _Phoenix_ so close? And the other thing was why Beutat hadn't even asked for her position. While Co-Commander Tate could've told him, her Commander hadn't even bothered to verify it…it was troubling.

She was still deep in thought even as she left the room and followed Bridge to the waiting room: in her case, the 'visitor's shuttle bay' which was used for any and all non-S.P.D. shuttles. Two hours later, when the scanners reported a Chimera shuttle coming in to pick her up, she was still thinking, even as she boarded the craft and was whisked back to the _Phoenix_.

Something, a gut instinct that she relied upon, told her that something was definitely wrong. What she didn't know was how right she would be later on.


	19. The Prelude

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: Hmmmm…energetic quote, no? First humorous quote I put in for quite a while too, I imagine.

And again…sorry for the long wait! Many, many things came together in an attempt to stop this chapter from being published, but nonetheless…here it is! I hope you all enjoy it, and of course, review it. And give a little thought to my friend in hospital please.

Okay, nobody beta-ed this chapter, so sorry for any and all mistakes in it. BB's just back from a volleyball tournament, and due to tiredness, cannot beta. But don't worry: BB's excellent beta skills will be back for the next chapter, which hopefully will be up within a couple of days to no more than a week!

Read, enjoy, give a little thought to my friend, and review! And I'll see ya all next time!

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

"_Sir! We've got major Krybot incoming! They're coming from the north, south, east, west: hell; they're coming right up our asses sir! We need assistance, and we need it _now_!"_

_Transmission from S.P.D. Ground Team, during assault on Gruumm's headquarters on Agasoi Prime _

* * *

**Time: 1032 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Commander Cruger's office, S.P.D. Central HQ, moving away from Akiah VII orbit**

"Sir," Bridge saluted as he stepped into the office of Commander Cruger again. He realised two seconds later that the Commander wasn't there again. "Where is he?" he mumbled to himself.

"Right here," Cruger growled from behind him, causing Bridge to jump in alarm.

"Oh right, sorry sir!" he saluted again, this time facing Cruger, who had just entered.

"At ease," he said, walking around Bridge to his desk. He sat down, and the chair groaned in response to the sudden increase in weight.

"Is the Chimera agent gone?" Cruger suddenly asked.

"I think so…her transport did come and leave a few minutes ago," Bridge said, scratching his head in thought.

"Good. Now, I'll get straight to the point. We've got enough evidence to land Gruumm in a Containment Card for a very long time. All we need now is to capture him," Cruger began.

"And you want me to do it?" Bridge finished.

"No, I want you to go with the two teams I am sending to assist them in his capture," Cruger corrected.

"Okay. When do I leave?"

"In a few days: we're waiting on the scouts to report back. We found his headquarters, and they're there to simply confirm that he actually is there. They should be due back in no more than two days."

"So can I quickly drop by a friend's place for something?" Bridge asked.

"As long as you're back in time for the operation," Cruger firmly said. "Dismissed."

Bridge nodded, and saluted. He turned and left, but hadn't gotten past the doorway when Cruger called out to him again.

"Bridge."

"Yes sir?" he replied, turning to face his superior.

"This is a joint operation we're having: Chimera's chipping in two Black Ops teams and one of their own agents. I don't want to hear reports of you or any of our Rangers getting into a brawl with a Black Ops team or their agent, got me?"

"Crystal clear, sir."

"Good. And if you do have to punch one of them, at least do it quietly," Cruger advised.

"I'll keep that in mind, thank you sir," Bridge responded, and walked out of Cruger's office, just as the Commander groaned, and grabbed another bottle of aspirin. He opened it and popped a pair of the pills into his mouth. Sweet, sweet relief from the headache washed over him, and he let out a contented sigh. Damn he needed that…

* * *

**Time: 1047 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Beutat's office, Chimera Mobile HQ _Phoenix_**

Kat, after a surprisingly short trip onboard the dropship, found herself once again deep in the bowels of the _Phoenix_, waiting for her turn to speak with Beutat. Once again, dozens of people of every sort and every occupation aboard the _Phoenix_ from the ordinary Black Ops soldier, to Black Ops officers, from computer technicians to engine engineers, sat around the room waiting. The one thing common about all of them, apart from the fact that they worked for Chimera was their uniforms: black military fatigues. The only difference was the armoured vests that the officers and troopers wore, the grey jacket that the computer technicians wore and the black and grey striped overalls that the engine engineers wore.

Judging from the way that some of them were seated, quite a few had been waiting for a long time. And it came as no surprise when no more than three minutes had passed after she sat down did Beutat's aide come out of his office, and told her that she could see the Commander. Once more dreading the meeting, Kat steeled herself, and decided to get it over and done with as quickly and professionally as possible.

"Ah, Kat," Beutat said, leaning back in his plush chair. "Good to see you still alive."

"Thank you sir. What did you need me for?" Kat asked, standing straight and keeping her voice neutral.

"Straight to the point, I see…a good trait, but we've got time to spare," Beutat said with a smirk.

"With all due respect sir…I don't believe that we do," Kat said. "There are plenty of other people waiting outside."

"Thinking of other people as well, eh? That's good Kat," Beutat nodded.

"Sir, can we just get to the point?" Kat nearly sighed. She would've rubbed at her temple if for the fact that she intended to remain professional throughout the whole meeting.

Beutat took his time answering, choosing instead to pick up his cup of steaming coffee from his desk and taking a sip from it. He sighed in pleasure, before taking another sip and placing the cup back down. He looked serious for once, something that Kat could barely remember happening, even after all her years of serving under his command.

"Well Kat, the reason you are here is more than just a debriefing. In fact, I've got another assignment for you," Beutat nodded his head as he took yet another sip. "Together, we and S.P.D. have garnered enough evidence to put Gruumm behind bars. A few of S.P.D. agents have found where Gruumm is holed up: his secret fortress on Agasoi Prime."

"And you want me to capture him?" Kat guessed.

"With two teams of Black Ops assisting you," Beutat added. "Not that any of us doubt your ability, but this isn't an operation for a lone agent."

Kat just nodded. "What's the plan?"

"Colonel Aiola is holding a briefing for the two teams in a few minutes, in Armoury Z-4," Beutat said. "Since you're working with them, the briefing should apply to you as well."

"And when are we launching?"

"Within three days."

"Then would it be alright if I take a shuttle to find some more information after the briefing?" Kat asked.

Beutat seemed to ponder her request for a few moments, before nodding. "As long as you're at the rendezvous point that we've set for you at the precise time and date. Let's see…would forty eight hours be enough?"

"Yes, thank you sir." She saluted once more and then turned on her heel and left even as the word 'dismissed' was leaving his mouth and the coordinates of her rendezvous point in her hand.

* * *

Five minutes later, Kat found herself entering the armoury where Colonel Aiola was holding the briefing. Much to her surprise, the two teams that had been chosen for the mission and were now sitting around were the teams she was on the best of terms with. Black Ops Team Alpha-Four and Team Gamma-Eight were among the only two squads in the entire force of Black Ops that Kat could talk to reasonably well. In fact, last time she had spoken to them, they supposedly were on a secret mission that had been planned to last about a month. That last conversation she had with them happened less than two weeks ago.

_Something strange is going on_, she thought to herself as she approached them.

"Agent Manx, reporting as ordered," she said to the Colonel, who nodded briefly. Evidently, he still hadn't gotten over the scuffle she had with him all those weeks ago.

"Sit down Agent."

"I prefer to stand."

"If you wish," Colonel Aiola said, though frustration was evident in his voice.

"Greetings, Katherine Manx," the squad leader of Team Alpha-Four, a tall, insectoid person said.

"Hi Kat," the other squad leader, an auburn-haired human woman who looked far too young for her rank, greeted her jovially, with a small, jaunty wave.

"Hello Sgt. Emera…Sgt. Lissette," Kat greeted respectively, and remained standing, just at the edge of the small clearing that was lined with benches. Dozens of weapon racks surrounded them all, and the firing range further down the room was quiet. Obviously, the Colonel or Beutat had gone to some length to keep this particular armoury clear of any unwanted people.

"If we're all done?" Aiola snapped with in an annoyed tone.

"Go on, Colonel," Lissette said, sounding slightly bemused. "We're listening."

"Good. Now, your job is to capture Gruumm…_alive_," the Colonel stressed. "Under no circumstance are you to kill or fatally wound him. We're taking a risky approach: you are going to be dropped right on the landing pads that are located on the fortress, and you'll make your way from there."

He paused for a moment, consulting the screen attached to his forearm, before throwing down a small holographic projector, almost as an afterthought. The projector lit up, and displayed the plan he had outlined, with dotted lines denoting the flight paths of the two dropships.

"Any questions?" he asked the assembled group.

"Do we have any information on where Gruumm is exactly inside his fortress?" one of the Black Ops piped up.

"No, regrettably. Work your way through the entire fortress, in conjunction with the S.P.D. teams," Aiola answered, grimacing as he said the last bit.

"We going in light or heavy?" another asked.

"Heavy: there's no way to discretely make your way through, so be prepared for anything."

"One last question," Kat spoke up. "Why are you holding this briefing now instead of in a few days time, before the actual operation?"

"I'm a busy man, Agent!" Colonel Aiola snapped. "It was either I brief you now, or someone less qualified than me brief you hours before the operation!"

He calmed down quickly under the stares of twenty Black Ops and a single Agent, and regained his composure.

"In any case, that's it. Good luck people: you'll be moving out in three days," he said, looking at each of them before kneeling down and shutting off the projector. He grabbed it, and then walked out of the armoury, leaving Kat and the two Black Ops teams alone.

Kat was the next to go. She said her goodbyes to each of the Black Ops, before turning and also left. After all, she now had a shuttle to catch.

* * *

**Time: 1658 hours, Earth time / Location: Alternative Information, Newtech City, Earth**

The sky was still a bright blue and the air was still warm when Kat Manx was making her way down the streets of Newtech City. She quite liked it on Earth, truth be told: it certainly was a lot nicer than the sparseness and dullness of her room aboard the Phoenix. But thought was for later. Right now, she had a job to do. And with that in mind, her goal was not too far away.

But as she rounded the corner to Alternative Information and was about to enter through the door, another person came around from the other corner, reading a newspaper, and ran straight into her. Kat was knocked down by the unexpected run-in, and the other person was knocked back a few steps.

"Oh! Sorry, didn't see you," the man said, reaching down and offering his hand, whilst curling up and putting the newspaper he was reading away.

"It's alright…" Kat's voice died away in her throat as she realised who it was who had pulled her to her feet. "Bridge?! What're you doing here?"

"Kat?" Bridge exclaimed at the same time, and looked equally shocked. "What are you doing here?!"

"You first," they both demanded at the same time, before Kat grudgingly started.

"I need to see a couple for some information," she revealed.

"They wouldn't be people named Jack and Z by any chance, would they?" Bridge asked.

"You know them?" Kat said, answering Bridge's question with a question of her own.

"I came here to see them about information as well," Bridge said, giving her an odd, confused glance. "You wouldn't by any chance also happen to be attacking Gruumm's secret fortress in a couple of days, would you?"

Kat frowned, deciding to break protocol just for once. "I am…"

"Weird," Bridge commented, before opening the door and beckoning her in. "Ladies first."

"Thanks," Kat said as she walked in, followed by Bridge. They were near-instantly greeted by Jack, who was also shocked to see Bridge follow in after Kat as well as the (rare) sight of the business empty.

"Kat? Bridge? At the same time?" he blurted out before realising what he was saying. "You two know each other?"

"We've met more than a few times out in the field," Bridge casually responded. "I…we just need a bit of information," he said, correcting his sentence under Kat's glare.

"Oh? What about?" Jack asked, leaning across the counter.

"Can we talk somewhere private?" Kat interjected, folding her arms. "This isn't a conversation to be held in public and I don't want to be walked in on in case someone comes around."

"Sure, if you want. Go 'round the back, and I'll meet you there," Jack said, walking to a portion of the counter which he opened for the two of them to walk through. "I just gotta close up for a while first."

"Where is everyone, by the way? It's normally always filled with people whenever I come," Bridge commented as he stopped at the open counter.

Jack just shrugged. "No clue, but they're still calling us," he sighed. "Z's taking most of…well, all the calls actually, so I'm left here to die of boredom." He flicked a few switches, and the sign outside the centre declared 'closed' in bright red lettering to any and all passer-bys

As soon as that was taken care of, he headed back to the room he had directed Bridge and Kat to. The duo were exchanging some talk at least, which reminded Jack of his bet with Z. He grinned as he thought of the potential fifty dollars that Z would eventually owe him…if the two of them actually got together that was.

"What are you smiling about?" Kat asked, having noticed him first as he entered.

"Nothing, nothing," he brushed the question off, before seating himself on a chair that sat against the wall. "So, what do the two of you need?"

"Any information about Gruumm, his bodyguards, whatever that is related to him but not widely known or related to his company," Bridge said.

"I can't tell you anything about Gruumm himself, apart from what you already know. But, his bodyguards…" Jack's gaze darkened slightly as he looked up at the two of them. "There is something about them I can tell you. Apart from the fact that he has two big ass mean ones."

He got up off the chair, and motioned for Bridge and Kat to follow.

"A few days ago, a guy came by, ranting about needing to be relocated to a place as remote as possible and the fact that Gruumm was after him. This was all after hours, and of course, who am I to turn down a person needing help?" Jack shrugged, leading the two further into the building. "Anyway, he said a lot about Gruumm's so-called 'Elite Guard'. They're apparently about fifty or so of Bluehead Krybots along with some numbers of normal Krybots."

"Did he say anything else?" Bridge asked.

"Not much after that, no. But a few weeks ago, according to Z, some guy came around and dropped off a disc here," Jack continued, reaching and opening a door. "I glanced through the files on the disc not so long ago, and discovered that they were actual an entire copy of Kat's operational record as well as some other files."

Kat looked stunned that someone had gotten a hold of her operational records, whilst Bridge looked confused. For her part, Kat was very worried internally: her records were kept sealed and off-limits to anybody, even to herself with the exception of Beutat. How did someone get hold of it then?

"Don't worry Kat: your secret is safe with us," Jack said with a grin, before it faded and his tone became more serious. "In any case, I think this file applies the most to you two."

The lights flickered on as the door opened, bathing the room in a bright light and revealing the fact that the room had no windows. Inside the room was a small holographic projector, as well as a standard disc reader. Bridge was the last to enter, and closed the door behind him as Kat walked around to the projector, whilst Jack tapped a few buttons on the controls. The projector sprung to life, and whatever it projected suddenly became near-invisible.

"Damn, uh Bridge, turn the lights off!" Jack said, squinting at whatever it projected in an attempt to discern it in the bright lights.

"Where's the switch?" Bridge asked, looking around confusedly.

"Over by the door," Jack said, motioning in the general direction of the switch with his left hand.

The lights died suddenly, and would've plunged the room into complete darkness had the projector not been on. The image now was very visible, and displayed a picture of a person who Kat and Bridge were very acquainted with. Gruumm's two personal bodyguards.

"Now, these two are…"

"Gruumm's personal bodyguards," Kat finished for him.

"You know them?"

"We've met," Bridge casually said.

"Right, and in any case, they're called the BlackGuard. They wear suits of armour that according to the disc is exceptionally tough, have built-in environmental support systems, and personal HUDs," Jack said, reading off from the information displayed.

"We know…at least about the toughness part," Bridge said, remembering how ineffective his lasers were. "Shooting lasers at them was like throwing pebbles at a dinosaur."

"Well, apart from that, the one other thing I'd look out for is their gun: each one of his two BlackGuard carries…a particle beam gun," Jack looked up. "I thought that that technology didn't even exist yet."

"Sounds like Gruumm's been developing it secretly," Kat remarked.

"Great…now I have being shot at with particle beam weapons to look forward to," Bridge dryly commented.

"Look on the bright side: you get hit, and that's the end of that: no need to worry about being operated on or if you'll survive the trip back to a hospital since you'll be dead," Kat said.

"Thanks Kat. I really needed that…"

* * *

**Time: 1124 hours, galactic standard time, three days later / Location: Passenger bay of Chimera dropship Firebird One, entering atmosphere of Agasoi Prime, location of Gruumm's secret headquarters**

The ride down into and through the planet's atmosphere aboard the dropship was fairly smooth, for which Kat was thankful for. The only noises came from the engines working at full blast, and the small talk exchanged between the Black Ops. From her position nearest to the deployment ramp, Lissette flashed Kat a thumbs up and a grin, which Kat returned hesitantly (the grin, rather than the thumbs up), before the Black Ops sergeant slid the helmet over her head, sealing her face off from the rest of the galaxy with a black faceplate.

"Word on the street goes that Gruumm's constructing some kind of superweapon in his secret fortress," one of the Black Ops said in a deep voice. Despite his intimidating stature and voice and the fact that he carried a heavy repeating laser, there was no hiding the light-heartedness that he always exhibited.

"'_Word on the street'_," one of his fellow Black Ops mocked. "Listen to him talk. There _is_ no street aboard the _Phoenix_, you big brute. And superweapons? Frankly, hardly. We're probably arresting him for tax evasion."

It was when they began to approach the insertion point within the walls of Gruumm's secret headquarters and fortress that the ride became bumpy. Laser and flak fire from the turrets that were scattered across the top of the fortress all lanced up at the two dropships, intent on blowing them out of the sky before they could drop their cargo. The pilots threw the dropships around, evading the fire and dodging the clouds of flak, many of which they only just passed. Needless to say, it left a smooth trip out of the question.

"They were expecting us!" the pilot's voice came over the intercom in the passenger bay. "Be warned, it's going to get rougher from here on!"

In the passenger bay, Kat stood up and grabbed hold of the handholds that hung from the ceiling, an action imitated by all of the Black Ops in the bay. They had all secured their weapons, and were now just hoping that the dropship wouldn't be nailed and explode into a million tiny, flaming bits.

Unfortunately, that was the fate that befell Firebird Two, flying adjacent to their ship and carrying Black Ops Team Alpha-Four.

"I'm hit!" the strained and panicky voice of the pilot sounded through the shared communications channel. "Mayday, mayday, this is Firebird Two, we're hit and losing altitude!"

Kat peered out the window mounted on the side of the passenger bay. During the atmospheric transition, it had been covered by a thick plating of armour, but now, the armour had slid back, allowing Kat to see the full extent of the damage done to Firebird Two. A laser had blown a hole in the ship, and flames danced around it. Thick, black smoke began trailing from the dropship even as its pilots lost control, spiralling downwards to the fortress which was now less than five hundred metres below them.

The pilot's scream was the last thing that she or any of the others in the passenger bay heard as Firebird Two, ablaze and ruined, ploughed into the side of Gruumm's fortress. A massive ball of fire, followed by the accompanying shower of metal, debris and building material from the fortress, erupted from the side of Gruumm's fortress. Forcing down the grief and emotions following the death of an entire team of Black Ops and more importantly, some of the only true friends she really had within her own organisation, Kat turned away from the sight and gripped the handhold tighter.

"Firebird Two is down, I repeat, Firebird Two is down!" their pilot cried into the radio.

"Understood, Firebird One. Continue with mission," Beutat ordered over the radio. It appeared that their Commander was keeping his ear out on their mission.

"Roger that, sir," the pilot said back, as his co-pilot flicked the radio off.

"Brace yourselves," the pilot called back into the passenger bay. "We're almost at the drop point!"

The only sounds that Kat and the others could hear now were the dropship's engines, which were a reassuring sound, and the dull booms of flak shells exploding far too close for their comfort (which was not a reassuring sound). The occasional laser streaked past, as did the many flak clouds. The dropship was miraculously left untouched (with the exception of some scorched paint) as it flew to a bone-juddering stop at their designated landing pad. The weapon emplacements couldn't aim far down enough to hit the dropship, and so, its occupants were left unscratched as they stormed off. The dropship lifted off, escaping from the weapon emplacements without being blown to pieces: of course, the arrival of a pair of S.P.D. dropships which distracted the gunners could've had something to do with it.

"There's the exit!" Lissette said, pointing at the doorway. "Troopers, g-…"

She was stopped mid-sentence by Kat, who grabbed her arm and shook her head.

"Too obvious," the agent said, before pointing at the emergency ladder. "That's a better option."

Lissette gave a shrug. "Change of plans, boys: down the ladder. You two, cover us while we go down, then we'll cover you from below."

A minute later, and the entire team was down from the landing pad and into the dark, gloomy hallways of Gruumm's fortress.

"Alright, where to?" Lissette asked over the squad radio, panning her rifle left and right.

"We should meet with the S.P.D. teams first," Kat answered, holding her pistol in her hands. "

They had gone no more than four metres into the fortress when the doors suddenly opened, and a flood of Krybots, lead by some of Gruumm's Elite Guard stormed out.

"Engage!" Lissette shouted somewhat unnecessarily, swinging her rifle to bear.

* * *

**Time: 1129 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Gruumm's secret fortress, Agasoi Prime**

In comparison to the Chimera descent, the S.P.D. one was significantly less dramatic: whilst the emplacements were all busy unloading without significant success against the pair of Chimera dropships, the S.P.D. dropships were speeding down without so much as a scratch. It was only after the first Chimera dropship exploded that they decided to announce themselves, firing an inaccurate barrage of lasers at the various emplacements as they lit up. This in turn distracted the gunners, who focused their flak and laser turrets on the S.P.D. dropships, completely forgetting about the Chimera dropship in their haste to target and destroy the S.P.D. dropships, allowing the Chimeran dropship to land. The S.P.D. pair landed as well, below a small rise that was well under the minimum firing angle of the turrets. The passenger bay doors opened, unfolded to serve as a ramp and the team of Rangers inside disembarked.

"Go, go, go!" the Red Ranger in the shuttle that Bridge was aboard shouted.

Next to them, the other shuttle released its passengers. Unlike the team Bridge had arrived and would be fighting in, the other team, the so-called 'Ground Team' was heavily armoured in their black S.W.A.T. vests and equipment, and carried heavier weapons. The so-called 'Assault Team', along to which Bridge was assigned to, had the duty of assaulting Gruumm's fortress, and capturing the crazed CEO. Not an enviable task really, given how his fortress was bound to be filled with traps, his Elite Guard and row after row of Krybots. But then again, that was why Cruger had assigned Bridge to the job as well. Officially, and to everyone else, assigning Bridge to the task pretty much meant that the operation was a success.

Privately though, Bridge knew that this was going to be hard. It wasn't the traps, the Bluehead Elite Guard or the endless armies of Krybots inside that worried him. All of those could, and would, be circumvented with enough care and firepower, respectively. And if anything, he had firepower with him, in the forms of the two S.P.D. Ranger teams. What really worried him were the two BlackGuards that followed Gruumm around. Their last meeting still firmly imprinted in his memory, Bridge was more than a little concerned over how they were going to be beaten.

"Let's go Rangers!" the other Red Ranger shouted, and promptly ended Bridge's brainstorming. "Over the top, get to the gate! Come on Agent Carson!"

"What? Hey, wait up!" Bridge shouted, even as the other ten Rangers were scrabbling up the rise.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the gate to the interior of Gruumm's fortress exploded, showering the two S.P.D. teams with debris. They were right on schedule, and by the time they stormed into the actual hallways of the evil megalomaniac's fortress, rifles blazing, two dozen Krybots lay on the ground, broken, blasted and destroyed. The S.P.D. ground team scurried about, setting themselves up all along one of the biggest lobbies that Bridge had ever seen. In fact, he was kind of confused about why Gruumm would build a lobby in his secret fortress. That kind of thought would definitely have led to another one of Bridge's long winded rambles about the peculiarities of the galaxy, had the fact that the galactic governing body was in danger not pierced through and reminded him of his mission.

"We'll hunker down here," the S.W.A.T.-outfitted Red Ranger informed them as the other Rangers began setting up portable weapon emplacements. "Holler if you need us."

"Will do," Bridge answered for the other Red Ranger.

"Come on Agent: we've got an evil corporate businessman to capture," the other Red Ranger said, sounding impatient as the rest of his squad lurked near the mouth of another hallway.

"Right, can't keep arrestees waiting," Bridge said, dashing off before both Red Rangers could do so much as blink.

"Hold up! Wait for us!" the S.P.D. assault team leader cried out, running off in pursuit of the agent, followed by his squad.

"Glad you could join me," Bridge said with a smirk as the rest of the assault team caught up to him. "I'd hate to go at this alone."

"Of…course…" the leader puffed, his weapons jingling and jangling as they bounced and jiggled with his movements.

They rounded what seemed like a dozen corners, and had gotten no more than twenty metres down the new hall which was littered with large chunks of debris (having fallen from the ceiling when the Chimera dropship smashed against the side of the fortress) when several Blueheads came storming at them from the corner ahead. The Rangers dove out of the way or fell to the floor. Either way, the deadly beams of light passed harmlessly above them, and the assault team, plus Bridge, returned the favour. Except that they didn't miss, unlike the Blueheads. Sparks of the non-romantic type flew from the ruined bits and pieces of the first squad of Gruumm's Elite Guard. With crackles of electricity playing over their circuitry, the four Blueheads lay defeated on the ground.

"Well, that wasn't so hard," the Blue Ranger said, lifting his rifle to his shoulder, and looking down upon the ruined Blueheads. "When do you think Gruumm's gonna get better security?"

As if posing an answer to the Blue Ranger's question, another twelve Blueheads charged around the corner up ahead of them. And as if that wasn't enough, two of them carried the Krybot containers, the tiny, metallic soccer-ball shaped canisters that held about ten Krybots in each. And within moments, those two canisters became twenty Krybots, who crammed the corridor.

"You were saying?" the Yellow Ranger snarled, bringing her rifle up to her shoulder.

The S.P.D. assault team managed to get the first blow in first, unleashing a torrent of laser fire from their rifles that blew the first line of Krybots off their feet. Some of the Krybots who were about to fire upon the Rangers ended up blowing holes in the ceiling as their arm-mounted laser weapons discharged upwards as they fell. Then the second row of Krybots and their accompanying Bluehead superiors fired.

Lasers exploded into light all around the six Rangers, forcing the Pink and Green Rangers back behind a small alcove formed by the entryway into another room, and the Red and Blue Rangers behind the larger of the blocks. The Yellow Ranger remained where she was, lying prone on the floor and firing laser after laser into the Krybots ahead. Bridge quickly ducked behind a smallish block next to her, firing from his pistol for his contribution to the firefight.

"This is Chimera Agent Manx, do you read?" Bridge's portable headset warbled. He ducked down again, and pulled it on.

"This is Agent Carson, go!" he shouted over the sounds of lasers firing and the Ranger team shouting instructions to each other.

"Bridge, what's going on?" Kat's voice asked.

"We've been engaged, and not in the romantic sense either!" he replied, blindly firing a few shots from his pistol over the top of the block in the general direction of the Krybots.

"Sit tight: we're on our way."

"Who's 'we'?" Bridge questioned curiously.

"I've got a Black Ops team behind me right now. We'll meet up with you, and then we'll find Gruumm," Kat answered, and now Bridge could hear the sounds of boots hitting the floor over the link. He was pretty amazed that he could hear anything at all over the sounds of warfare.

"Great, sounds like we'll be having a party," Bridge said, wincing as a laser exploded against his cover. The Yellow Ranger blasted the Bluehead who had shot at him, sending the robot tumbling back in a shower of sparks, before a return barrage forced her to roll behind cover.

"Okay…where're you holed up?"

"Just follow the sounds of lasers," Bridge answered, before his radio buzzed. "Wait, hold up."

"Sir!" the Red Ranger from the Ground Team said. "We've been attacked by Krybots!" A loud explosion sounded. "…We're repelling with earnest."

Another loud explosion came over the radio, accompanied by the loud whines of laser rifles and heavy lasers going off.

"Do you need assistance?"

"Negative on that! We can hold these bastards off: just capture the asshole who we're here for," the Red Ranger stated confidently, before cutting the link.

"What should we do?" the Red Ranger (who also heard the transmission, given that it was transmitted through the squad channel) behind Bridge demanded, before ducking as a laser passed through the space where his head had been moments before.

"Covering fire!" the Blue Ranger yelled. Two laser rifles, the Green and Pink Rangers opened up once more, this time blasting a trio of charging Krybots off their feet, and forcing the remaining Blueheads back.

"This is getting annoying," the Yellow Ranger snapped, placing a new power pack into her rifle. "We're supposed to capture Gruumm…not blast away at his minions!"

She accented that by blowing away another Krybot, which disappeared under the large pile of Krybot ruins that begun to gather. Several times the surviving Blueheads had stopped the S.P.D. assault team's advance simply by throwing canister after canister of Krybots out, most of which had been disposed of like they were cannon fodder. But if anything, it was definitely shortening the time they had left to capture Gruumm.

"Well?" the Red Ranger asked, firing a long burst of lasers that disabled a Bluehead, and thankfully destroyed the Krybot canister it was about to throw.

"We let them be for now," Bridge answered, priming and tossing a grenade over to the end of the hallway. It exploded, throwing the bodies of the Krybots around like a ragdoll, and raining bits and pieces of Krybots down on the Rangers, even twenty metres away. "Now…why didn't I think of that before?" he questioned himself.

"Who cares, the way's clear," the Pink Ranger said, but keeping her rifle trained on the intersection, just in case.

"Go check it out," the Red Ranger beckoned.

"What?!"

"You heard me," the Red Ranger said. "Take McAllister with you."

"What?!" the Green Ranger demanded, startled.

The Red Ranger sighed audibly.

"Go with her, and check the—…"

"Bridge, come in!" Kat's voice suddenly demanded from Bridge's headset.

"I'm here, what's up?" Bridge answered, causing all five Rangers to look at him.

"We've located Gruumm! We're in pursuit, so get your ass over here!" the Chimera agent ordered.

Before Bridge could answer, the radio buzzed again.

"Wait a moment," he said, before switching channels.

"Guys, we've got trouble! We're nearly overrun! We need assistance, and damn it we need it now!" the Red Ranger of the ground team shouted. The cacophony of lasers and explosions was even louder. "We can't hold out for much longer!"

Before he could elaborate, the channel was cut, and static filled the radio. Bridge glanced at each of the five Rangers with him. Three of them gave him helpless shrugs, while the Yellow gave a fierce shake of her head, and the Red Ranger nodded.

"Your call," the Red Ranger said.

Bridge sighed.

"Alright, let's quickly go back and help them." He tried swapping channels again, but Kat either had her radio turned off, or was too busy to noticce, as she didn't reply.

"But sir!" the Yellow Ranger protested. "We should be going after Gruumm!"

"The ground team's about to be overrun, and besides…Gruumm already has a Chimera agent and Black Ops team after him," Bridge grinned. "We can join in on that fun later. Now, move, double time!"

"Yes sir!"

* * *

**Time: 1218 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Lobby of Gruumm's secret fortress on Agasoi Prime**

The Krybots were everywhere, and represented their use well: overwhelming numbers to make up for the lack of a fight each individual one could put up. The Red Ranger and his three remaining Rangers found themselves being pushed back, desperately firing, blowing away any and all Krybots which came too close for comfort, retreating, reloading, and repeating the cycle again. Now they were using the ruined reception desk as their last bastion, using it for cover.

"To your left!" his S.W.A.T.-outfitted Green Ranger shouted, blasting a Krybot which had climbed onto the desk to their left. It was blasted off, toppling backwards.

"Krybot, to the right!" his Pink shouted, also blasting away at it.

"Where the hell are they?!" his Blue demanded, hurried slamming a new power pack into his Delta Enforcer.

And to answer his question, the still-standing door opposite to the reception desk they were hunkered down behind exploded outwards. Grenades flew through the door, and landed in the midst of the Krybot hordes. Announcing their presence with a series of cheerful beeps, it contrasted the various _booms_ and _bangs_ that they caused. Within seconds, the Krybot horde had diminished in size very noticeably. Then five Rangers and a single agent came pushing through the smoke, forming impressive figures as they charged through, Delta Enforcers shouldered and blazing. Each of the double barrels spat lasers at the Krybots, many of whom were caught unawares and destroyed by the sudden arrival. Bridge hastily wafted the smoke out of his eyes, trying not to tear as he blinked his watery eyes. However, even if his eyes were watery, it didn't hamper him, or at least, in any noticeable way, as he raised his pistol and picked off any Krybots that the team had missed in their hasty Rambo charge into the midst of what had initially seemed like hundreds of Krybots, but in reality was little more than fifty after the grenade explosions. In less than a minute after the first grenade had exploded, the Krybot hordes which threatened the lives of the S.P.D. ground team were no more.

"Better late than never, right?" Bridge asked with a grin, walking over and offering a hand to the shell-shocked Red Ranger of the ground team.


	20. The Storm

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: Wooo!! We're at the finale!!!!! Drop everything that you're doing, sit down, get comfy and get ready to read!!!!! Oh yes, and we see the two BlackGuards in action again.

And yes, a much shorter wait this time, no? I hope you enjoy this chapter, and once again, BB unfortunately did not beta this chapter, so sorry for any mistakes, but I hope you can enjoy it anyways! And on the topic of BB, give my sibling a 'happy birthday!' in a review as indeed, BB's birthday is coming up very shortly.

So read, enjoy, and of course, say happy birthday to BB in a review, which means review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

"_Going up against two elite bodyguards who are in powered armour, armed with particle beam guns, not to mention that the armour itself is capable to withstanding a direct hit from a tank cannon with nothing more than a pistol, a few grenades and our heads? Oh we're not crazy: we're _insane_." _

_S.P.D. Intelligence Agent Bridge Carson to Chimera Agent Katherine 'Kat' Manx, overheard in battle against Gruumm's BlackGuards _

* * *

**Time: 1220 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Hallways of Gruumm's secret fortress, Agasoi Prime**

Only a few minutes ago Kat had radioed Bridge to hurry to her position when she had spotted Gruumm fleeing deeper into his fortress. Now she and the Black Ops found themselves pursuing Gruumm and his two bodyguards, occasionally blasting the odd Krybot or ten out of the way. Not long ago, her radio had been blown away by a stray Krybot laser, crippling her ability to communicate with the S.P.D. team or with her S.P.D. counterpart. The only way to communicate with the S.P.D. teams and her counterpart now was to relay a message through Lissette or anyone of the others to Bridge via the radios that the Black Ops helmets came equipped with. Of course, given how they were constantly running, gunning or at times, both, the half a minute or so needed to calibrate the radios to the correct setting was rather hard to come by.

Lasers whickered into the walls above them, forcing the Black Ops team to a sudden halt as they ducked behind whatever they could find that looked reasonably solid enough to stop a laser. Four Blueheads made up the rear of Gruumm's group, the CEO himself in the lead, followed closely by his two BlackGuards. The four Blueheads arranged themselves into a line, firing lasers back at their pursuers in an attempt to ward them off. Lasers from Kat's pistol and the Black Ops troopers lashed back, and a single enhanced laser from their marksman's augmented rifle punched through the head of one Bluehead. It toppled down in what seemed like slow-motion, limbs flailing wildly as it fell in a shower of its own circuitry and metal. Its fellows fell shortly after, desperately firing lasers in the direction of the Black Ops to keep them away.

One by one, the Blueheads fell as they retreated further back. One was smashed off its feet by a sustained laser barrage, the firepower too much for its armour to deal with. Another lost a leg to a grenade, and fell to the floor, still firing. A laser bolt struck it directly between its photoreceptors, shattering its mechanical eyes as well as the CPU and vital processors. The Bluehead slowly drifted into inactiveness, its limbs growing stiff without power, and the eyes dimming. Of course, the neither the Black Ops team nor Kat noticed the details: the Bluehead was dead, and that was all that mattered. However, a complication arose as soon as that particular Bluehead twitched one final time.

"Where's the last one?" Lissette wondered aloud, her rifle sweeping across the debris filled hall in front.

"Keep sharp," Kat said, stepping out and taking the lead. "But we can't afford to waste time looking for it—…oof!"

She was interrupted when the last remaining Bluehead leapt out from its hiding spot and rugby tackled the Chimera agent to the ground.

"You shall not interrupt the Emperor's task!" it shouted, raising its blade above Kat's chest. Moments before it brought it down, Kat slammed her forearm across its chest, knocking it to the ground before she dove after it herself. Barely seconds later, and the two of them were locked in a grappling match on the ground, each vying for control.

"Damn it Kat, we need a clear shot!" Lissette shouted, running up with the rest of her squad with rifles raised and waiting for the right moment. Kat currently was pinned underneath the Krybot, but she was moving enough so that a single misaimed shot could quite easily take a limb off.

"Just go and catch up with Gruumm! I can handle this guy!" Kat shouted back, before moving her head just in time. The Bluehead's bladed right arm smashed into the ground where her head had been mist before, and several chunks of concrete flew up.

"Alright, let's go troopers!" Lissette shouted, running onwards with the rest of her squad following her with a single glance back at the cloud of dust that was building up around the two scuffling figures.

On the ground, Kat had found out the hard way why Blueheads made up Gruumm's Elite Guard. In the contest of strength, there was no question that the Bluehead was quite capable of overpowering her. And unless she ended this soon, there was going to be a bad ending for her. The Bluehead momentarily lifted its arms up, with the intent on bringing them down on her. Tucking her legs in and lashing out, Kat kicked the Bluehead away, and leapt to her feet, leaping forward and kicking the Bluehead again with enough force to smash it into the wall. The impact caused bits and pieces of the wall to chip and flake off, and the Bluehead stalled as its processors rebooted after such an impact. It looked up to stare down at the business end of Kat's pistol. She fired, before firing again and again and again.

Ten bolts later, and ten new, smoking craters had appeared on the Bluehead's head and chest. It toppled shortly after, hitting the ground with a solid thump as Kat looked around briefly at her surroundings, before running off in the direction that the Black Ops had gone, and presumably, the direction in which Gruumm and his cronies had fled.

"The job is never done," she sighed to herself as her sensitive ears caught onto the sound of lasers firing up ahead after nearly a full minute of sprinting.

As she reached the area of the fighting, it became apparent that indeed the Black Ops team had made plenty of progress. Over the sounds of lasers, she could just barely discern the whirring of powered armour motors, which meant that Gruumm's BlackGuard were nearby and therefore Gruumm would be as well.

When she actually reached the Black Ops, they had almost finished off another group of Gruumm's Elite Guard: seven Blueheads lay on the ground in varying poses and varying bits and pieces and one still remained before Lissette landed a priceless headshot against the last Bluehead, blowing its head right off its mechanical body. The sound of Kat's heeled boots hitting the floor alerted the squad, and two of them instantly whirled around, rifles aimed at her. They lowered them once they saw it was Kat, and the HUDs built into their helmets identified her as well. Taking a look around at the carnage, she gave an almost pleased nod: arms, legs and even a head belonging to the Blueheads lay about the place where Gruumm's elite had staged a final stand.

"Nice of you to join us, Kat. Come on: we're almost up to Gruumm," Lissette said, before pointing to five of her team, including their heavy weapons specialist. "You five, stay behind and watch our backs. Knapp, you're in charge."

"Yes ma'am," they replied at once, before scooting around, finding appropriate positions that held the best fields of fire and also overlapped each other.

"Well, shall we?" Lissette prompted.

The six Chimera operatives bolted, running after Gruumm, who hadn't gotten far. As each Black Ops trooper was fully conditioned to be the best, they were quite capable of running long distances at reasonably fast speeds, given that all their equipment weighed them down considerably. Not to mention that Gruumm was forced to run at a speed that suited his heavily armoured bodyguards as well, or else he was going to outpace them and leave them and the considerable protection they offered him behind. The combination of all those factors meant that after some running, they reached Gruumm again without problems.

"Freeze Gruumm!" Kat shouted, aiming her pistol at the still running CEO, as did the rest of Lissette's Black Ops team.

"You won't stop me!" he shouted back still running.

One of his BlackGuards spun around, and fired his weapon at the pursuing Chimera operatives. A blue-white beam of energy slammed into the wall next to one of the Black Ops, and blasted a solid crater in the material. A few curses and shouts went up and down the line of Black Ops, as they scuttled and dove for cover from the unexpected attack. A few lasers were fired at the BlackGuard, but most of them missed, before the BlackGuard fired another beam and quickly stomped off before the Black Ops could poke their heads back above cover. With Gruumm and his two BlackGuards out of sight, they began to pursue again, though this time more cautiously. None of them wanted to test how well their armour would hold up to one of those beams.

"Knapp, how are things back there?" Lissette asked, ducking as a beam whizzed over her head.

"Krybots have engaged us, and we're outnumbered nearly two to one. Under control," his voice sounded over lasers and explosions.

"Keep them off our backs," Lissette ordered, taking a peek over the top of her cover. She caught the sight of a suit of armour stomping away, and fired a burst of lasers at the figure, before her rifle cut out, a dry wheezing sound that indicated that her current power pack was depleted. The few lasers that did shoot out however, struck the BlackGuard's side. The tough armour took the lasers without complaint, heating up a few degrees but not sustaining any damage.

"Damn this bastard's tough," she growled, before another beam flew back, striking centimetres from Cadoy's (the squad marksman) foot.

The marksman swore and jumped away, startled by the attack. A few of the Black Ops let loose a barrage of lasers, most of which missed. The bolts that did hit didn't seem to do anything as well. The BlackGuard fired another particle beam from his cannon, and then slipped around a corner, chasing up to his partner and Emperor.

"Come on, hurry up, move!" Kat shouted before Lissette could say anything and took off down the corridor. The Black Ops sergeant glowered and grumbled at the agent good-naturedly. The agent herself was beginning to feel extremely aggravated by their apparent inability to come any closer than ten metres to the person they were trying to capture. Of course, the two BlackGuards certainly weren't making things any easier with their powerful weapons and nigh-impenetrable armour.

Forgoing all manner of squad cohesion, the Black Ops got up or out from cover, and also ran after Kat. After running around the corner, they paused as the sight of a large metal door loomed in front of them. Kat was working away at the control panel, as she tried to get the door open. A few seconds later, the control panel sparked, Kat swore, leapt away and the door, with an awful screeching noise of un-maintained gears, slowly began to open. The five Black Ops slowly formed up behind Kat, staring at the room in front of them in equal shock and awe.

For one, the room was positively gigantic. The roof stretched high above their heads, and powerful red lights bathed the room in red, giving it a sinister air. The other thing was that the room was a literal maze: massive columns reached up from the floor below, and the catwalks, which were the only means of getting across the room (there was no solid ground to walk on save for the catwalks), weaved around and through the massive metal columns. Some of them were so tightly packed together they formed walls within the walls of the room, and bits of machinery dotted the area around them.

"We're going in there?!" one of the Black Ops managed, before he was elbowed in the side by his team mate.

"Don't tell us you're scared…"

"Of course not. I just wanted to make sure that we are," he huffed back.

"Your wish has been granted," Lissette said. "Kat, you taking point?"

The agent nodded, already walking into the massive expanse of a room warily, pistol drawn.

"Lock and load, stay sharp," Lissette ordered, checking the power pack of her own rifle.

They journeyed into the room after Kat, rifles raised and at the ready. The humming of the various machines and consoles only added to the air of tension floating about, as the Black Ops and Kat realised that they were walking in a place where they could be ambushed at potentially every turn. Their boots clanged softly against the metal catwalk, as they smoothly slid around corners, a rifle or pistol covering every corner or entryway that was visible. The red lighting made things even more difficult: dark corners were made even darker, creating more potential areas to hide in. Which of course, meant that the air of tension grew even thicker to the point where it could've been shattered by a punch.

Then it was shattered.

The proverbial punch in this case was the sudden warbling of the radio in the Black Ops helmets. Though inaudible to everyone else, and with Kat's radio broken, and therefore silent, the fact was that many of the Black Ops were too used to the silence. The sudden blaring of it startled them, and Kat turned around after noticing that they weren't following her.

"Sergeant, this is Knapp, do you read?"

Beneath her helmet, Lissette frowned. Knapp's voice was unusually panicky. "I read you, go ahead."

"We're being overrun ba--…here," the Black Ops soldier said, as the sounds of laser rifles and the heavy laser of their heavy weapons specialist overcame the Black Op's voice momentarily. "…we'll hold them off—long as we ca—…"

A final scream came over the radio, before static overcame it completely. The Black Ops exchanged glances with each other, as Kat walked back.

"What happened?" she asked in a low voice.

"We've lost contact with Knapp," Lissette said solemnly. "They were being overrun…it's not too hard to guess that they're probably all KIA."

"What not?" another Black Ops asked.

"We finish our mission," Lissette said. "Quickly, before Gruumm gets any further than he already has."

They nodded, and started off again, the clattering of their boots and the low humming of their laser rifles being the only sounds that they made. Not long later, they found themselves reaching a clearing of sorts: the rather narrow catwalk gave way to a large platform, which wasn't as surrounded by the massive metallic columns as the rest of the room and catwalks behind them. And of a greater concern, on the catwalk were Gruumm and his two BlackGuards. The former was leaning over a console, hurried pressing buttons, twiddling and twisting dials and flicking switches, while the latter were standing behind him, keeping their eyes out for anyone or anything that would harm their leader.

One of them noticed the Black Ops and agent slipping out from the maze before them, rifles and pistol respectively aimed at them. That BlackGuard turned and said something to Gruumm, while the other aimed his particle beam cannon at them. Of course, it was a bit hard to say if he was aiming: the weapon was held at the BlackGuard's waist, instead of raised at his shoulder. Of course, the weight of the weapon they were carrying might've had something to do with it

"Well, well, well," Gruumm said as he turned around to see the Chimera agent and Black Ops team. "You still here?"

"Time's up Gruumm: we're taking you back with us, whether you like it or not," Kat said, her pistol aimed at Gruumm's forehead.

"Come on now, Agent, that pistol is hardly necessary," Gruumm sighed as the door slowly lifted up, revealing what looked like a fairly long corridor behind.

"And why is that?" Lissette demanded.

"What if I said that I knew you had orders that I was to be taken in alive?" he said.

"It didn't say anything about us not being able to wound you," Kat countered.

"Which is what my two BlackGuards are here for," Gruumm said with a smirk. One of the two BlackGuards stepped in front of Gruumm, protecting the madman with his armoured body. "Take care of them."

"As you wish," the heavily distorted voice of one of the BlackGuards acknowledged.

With that, Gruumm disappeared into the open doorway, and the two BlackGuards stepped forward, their weapons blazing away with particle beams. The entire Black Ops team dropped to the ground along with Kat, the beams passing by overhead to crater the column behind as they fired back. A barrage of lasers and particle beams filled the relatively small clearing, and it didn't take a genius to work out that the Black Ops were woefully outclassed. Of course, given that Kat could be called a genius, it took her far less time than it did for others to realise this grim fact, and Lissette realised it not long after the shooting began either.

"Damn it, fall back!" she shouted over the din, firing a long burst of lasers that stitched themselves against the chest armour of the left BlackGuard. Her shots seemed to do nothing however, and they were saved by the fact that in their initial barrage, the BlackGuards had overheated their particle beam cannons temporarily, allowing the Black Ops team and Kat to quickly get up and retreat back into the maze before.

The BlackGuards pursued them, and thus began another battle anew.

* * *

**Time: 1231 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Unnamed room, Gruumm's secret fortress on Agasoi Prime**

Inside the metallic maze of columns, catwalks and machinery, a new battle was fought. A hellish game of hide-and-seek had erupted, as the five Black Ops troopers and Kat fought against a pair of seemingly invincible BlackGuards. The Chimera operatives had split into pairs, each duo darting around the warren of towering columns, sometimes running headlong into one of the BlackGuards, who had separated, at other times, ambushing them.

Case to point, Kat and Lissette carefully peered around a corner as untold kilos of man and armour stomped across the catwalk that was adjacent to the one they were on, and connected to theirs via another short catwalk. It wasn't hard to tell when they were coming: the catwalk shaking as they took each step was enough to alert the pair to one of the BlackGuards, let alone Kat's hypersensitive hearing. Throughout the room, the two of them could also hear lasers firing as well, as the other two pairs engaged the other BlackGuard wherever he was.

Focusing on their current ambush however, Kat and Lissette waited another moment, as the hulking shape of one of the BlackGuards stepped in view. The two of them stepped out, and unleashed a torrent of laser fire that threw up sparks and small explosions around the BlackGuard, who stumbled back from the sudden volume of fire being shot at him. His disorientation didn't last long however, and braving the lasers, he stepped out and fired. A beam punched into the column behind Kat, showering the agent with bits and pieces of the column, before she ducked back behind the corner. Lissette mirrored her action, knowing that they couldn't go toe to toe with the Black Ops just yet.

"Let's go!" she shouted to Kat, sprinting down another catwalk with Kat following closely. A beam slashed through the air again, barely missing them by mere centimetres, and the two women could feel the heat of the beam through their fatigues and armour. The Black Ops sergeant twisted around, firing a burst of lasers at their pursuer, scoring a few hits and succeeding in forcing the BlackGuard back whilst they disappeared into the maze once again.

"Another day, another ambush," Kat sighed as she leaned against the catwalk's handrail, with Lissette leaning against the opposite corner. Behind them, on top of a viewing platform barely two metres above the catwalk was Pvt. Cadoy, the Black Ops marksman, fiddling with the settings on the scope of his augmented laser rifle.

One of the BlackGuards came stomping around the corner again, and Kat and Lissette once again greeted him with a barrage of lasers. Cadoy fired as well, his shot actually cratering the armour. The agent and sergeant kept up their barrage, but the BlackGuard was more concerned with Cadoy. The marksman's shot tore through some components in the BlackGuard's left leg, before the BlackGuard fired. The shot tore through the platform's support beams, and the marksman had barely leapt off it to the catwalk below when the platform toppled. It smashed through a portion of the catwalk as he ran to join Kat and Lissette, who had already melded back into the maze, headed for the next ambush point.

* * *

**Time: 1232 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Hallways of Gruumm's secret fortress, Agasoi Prime**

While Kat and the rest of the Black Ops were busy fighting off the two BlackGuards, Bridge and the S.P.D. assault team had just reached the place where the other half of Lissette's Black Ops team had staged their last, defiant stand against overwhelming Krybot numbers. Tellingly and obviously, Krybots made up most of the debris and fallen, with the group of five Black Ops lying face down and lifeless against a corner, their weapons still clutched in their hands. Krybots remains surrounded them, at a ratio of nearly three Krybots to each fallen Black Ops.

"Poor guys," the Pink Ranger remarked, looking around at the devastation.

"Should we contain them and bring them back?" the Green Ranger asked, his hand already halfway to his morpher even as he asked the question.

"Yeah," Bridge sighed. "Hurry: I think we're needed."

"Do we have a lock on the rest of the Black Ops location?" the Red Ranger asked.

"Gimme a sec," the Yellow Ranger snapped, tapping buttons on her open morpher. "Got them."

"Let's go!" the Red Ranger ordered.

* * *

Bridge had no idea how much he was needed when he had said what he had said. Kat found herself alone, surrounded by the dead bodies of Black Ops Team Gamma-Eight: her last friends in Chimera. She could vividly recall their last moments, as she was right with them when they had all died. They, all six of them including herself, had met up for a final stand. They had taken cover behind a bank of consoles that lined the catwalks in a part of the room that was clear of the columns, which once again rose up to either side. As the pair of BlackGuard stomped towards them unrelentingly, they had exchanged lasers for particle beams, and had held out for three whole minutes before they started to die.

Pvt. Aveles was the first to go: he had taken a particle beam straight to the chest, and fell back off the catwalk. Pvt. Cadoy was the next, as he popped up, propped his augmented rifle against the consoles, and fired at one of the BlackGuards. His shot struck, and had somehow skipped off the shoulder plate of the BlackGuard. Cursing, he had barely begun to spin back down into cover when a pair of particle beams struck him, blasting him off his feet and hurling him back down the catwalk a few metres. Two others perished to the BlackGuards soon after, until it was only Kat and Lissette left. A beam had passed too closely to the sergeant's head, and had screwed up her helmet's display. She had tore the useless item off her head, shook free her long auburn hair and fired as Kat rose up and added her pistol to the amount of fire coming out of Lissette's rifle. One of the BlackGuards had aimed at them: Kat managed to duck in time, but Lissette was too slow for a fraction of a second, and was shot in the chest.

Time seemed to slow as she fell back, her mouth open in shock. Her hair flapped around her face and head as she toppled backwards, dead before she even hit the ground. Her eyes and mouth were still open in shock as Kat stared helplessly at the body of her friend. Training took over, as she forced back down grief and anger. There would a time for that later. But there was no way that she could grieve when she was being attacked by the two BlackGuards or dead.

And so, she had rolled away from the bank of consoles, and into the maze of columns again. Of course, her escape wasn't unnoticed. The BlackGuards had seen her dive away, and were now advancing on her position. She was pinned down in one of the alcoves, surrounded on three sides by the massive columns. The two BlackGuards were well aware of that fact, as they kept up a constant barrage of particle beam shots that forced Kat to keep her head down lest it be taken off.

And for the first time in many years, Kat was scared. After all, it wasn't everyday that your abilities came in question against a pair of elite, power armoured people who had seemingly effortlessly slaughtered half a Black Ops team. And so, Kat found herself praying for a miracle.

Then the miracle came, in a form of a small, rounded object that tumbled and bounced its way into the midst of the two BlackGuards.

"Grenade!" their heavily distorted voices cried out, as they hastily spun around and stomped away.

The grenade exploded, a small explosion that amazingly didn't tear the catwalk apart. The explosion hurled bits and pieces of metal shrapnel around, as well as a cloud of brown smoke.

"Hiya," Bridge said with a smile, suddenly popping into the alcove Kat was hiding in. "Come on, before they get back!"

Kat, who was too stunned for once, nodded, and hurried out with Bridge and into the maze once again as the two very angry BlackGuards came storming back, firing a barrage of particle beams that tore up the area where the two agents had been moments ago.

"What are you doing here?" Kat hissed at Bridge, as the two of them hid.

"What does it look like? Saving your life," Bridge said nonchalantly. "And that's one less I owe you for saving my life as well."

"That's good and all, but we can't reach Gruumm if these two keep getting in our way," Kat said.

"Well then, we simply have to take them on. You take on, I take the other?" Bridge asked.

"Fine."

The heavy stomping of the two BlackGuards came back again, as they began firing at the two agents, fully intent on killing them. Bridge and Kat risked life and limb, well, perhaps maybe not limb but most certainly life, as they leaned around the corner, braving the deadly white beams, firing back at the two BlackGuards.

"Where's the rest of your team?" Kat asked, ducking back after emptying the rest of the charge of her pistol's current power pack into the chest of the closest (though still relatively far away) BlackGuard.

"I told them to stay back and let me handle this. I don't think that they can fight against these guys without taking some casualties," Bridge answered, before poking his head out (and nearly having it blasted off by a particle beam shot) and firing.

Eventually, after the BlackGuards had advanced too close for their comfort (even though comfort was rather hard to come by given that they were being shot at) the two agents split, and bolted down different directions, a single BlackGuard pursuing each agent.

"I'll meet you at the entryway Gruumm went through!" Kat shouted to Bridge.

"Alright…wherever the heck that is!" Bridge shouted as he ran through a furious storm of particle beams. None of them struck him as he zigzagged his way across the catwalk and up a flight of steps the BlackGuard pursuing and firing all the way. One of the beams slammed into the catwalk just mere centimetres away from his leg. Cursing, Bridge jumped forward, span around and drew both his pistol, and the pistol which the Red Ranger had given him before he had descended into this hellish maze. Holding a pistol in both hands and now facing the BlackGuard whilst flying through the air, Bridge unleashed a barrage of lasers from both pistols, pulling the triggers repeatedly. The lasers struck the BlackGuard and the area around it, throwing up an impressive series of sparks and not-so-impressive glows on the BlackGuard's armour.

_What the hell?_ Bridge wondered even as he flew through the air as particle beams cut through the air all around him. _Shouldn't I be hitting the ground by now? _

Then his back hit the catwalk with a _bang_.

"Owwww…" he moaned, before realising that the BlackGuard was reaching the edge of the higher catwalk, and quickly scrambled to his feet, running again even as more particle beams smashed the he had been.

He ran forward, until he reached the area where Lissette and her Black Ops team had fallen. Even that area was vulnerable to the BlackGuard, who had a commanding line of sight over the column less place where Bridge was in. Instead of darting into the maze again, Bridge ran, and before vaulting over the line of consoles, managed to grab one of the Black Ops' rifles, dropping one pistol the in process. He hit the ground barely before a particle beam _whooshed_ overhead.

Bridge went to flip the power setting of the rifle he had snatched to maximum, but found that the switch was already there. Given how the rifle was intact, it probably meant that whoever had the rifle had changed the setting, but never gotten around to firing it. Bridge knew that the maximum power setting was exceptionally powerful, firing a blast that was capable of blowing a crater in tank armour. But it was hardly ever used: one, because ninety percent of the time, the rifle would've malfunctioned from the power of the blast, and two, the sheer amount of energy being thrown behind the blast had the capability of overwhelming the rifle's battery, potentially causing the rifle to explode outright.

With that in mind, and the fact that what he was doing was a very dangerous gamble, Bridge spun out from cover, levelled the rifle at the BlackGuard, and fired. A massive blast of energy surged out from the rifle, and impacted directly on chest of the BlackGuard. The armour finally gave way, and the BlackGuard stood shock still for a second, before leaning forward and falling over the railing of the catwalk, impacting on the one below with a _thud_ and causing the catwalk to shake enough to resemble a miniature earthquake.

Idly wondering how the catwalk could've held up to so many hundreds of kilograms falling on it, Bridge tossed the rifle away, drew his pistol, and ran for the clearing Kat had described. It was very likely to be opposite of where he came in, and taking a wild stab at his direction, he ran.

* * *

At the same time Bridge was fighting his BlackGuard, Kat was also fighting hers with a fury that could only be born from wanting vengeance on the person who had killed her friends. She was fully on the offensive, kicking and shooting at the BlackGuard, while never given him a moment to recover from her near endless stream of attacks. The BlackGuard fired at her whenever he could, but Kat was moving faster than he could bring his weapon to bear. Close quarters combat was by far the greatest weakness of the BlackGuard: their heavy armour was both their blessing and their downfall, and at close range, where speed was essential, the servos and motors of the armour couldn't move fast enough. Kat used her superior agility and her feline physiology to their fullest, constantly running and attacking. She leapt against the 'wall' of columns, pushed off onto the other one and flew in with a kick against the faceplate of the BlackGuard, pushing the person back.

Landing in a crouch, Kat sprang up again, kicking away the particle beam cannon before lashing out with another kick. The BlackGuard fell back, and Kat didn't give him a moment's reprieve, continuing her barrage of kicks and attacks. At last, Kat kicked upwards as the BlackGuard brought his weapon to bear, and the force of the attack knocked the gun right out of the BlackGuard's hands. As it fell, Kat caught it, gritting her teeth with exertion as she brought the heavy weapon up and fired…at the shocked BlackGuard's chest. The BlackGuard fell to his knees, armour integrity compromised as his suit ran out of energy to keep functioning. He looked up, to see Kat drop the particle beam cannon, run up and spin around with a roundhouse kick aimed at his head.

The kick connected, and pitched the person's head sharply forward into the interior of the faceplate, knocking him unconscious. The BlackGuard finally fell down, as Kat stood victorious, panting with exhaustion.

"No rest for the weary," Kat said, walking back to where she had dropped her pistol and picked it up, holstering it as she ran.

* * *

**Time: 1241 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Secret silo in Gruumm's secret fortress, Agasoi Prime**

Having defeated what hopefully was going to be their last major obstacle in the way of capturing Gruumm, Kat and Bridge rendezvoused in the clearing before running into the same hallway Gruumm had gone. Of course, the other obstacle that had stood in the way was that Bridge had gotten himself lost in the maze, and while Kat had found her way to the clearing in a relatively short order, Bridge still had no clue where he was. The two of them had eventually resorted to a rather embarrassing way of getting Bridge to the clearing: they played 'Marco Polo' or rather, Kat shouted at him while he followed where he thought Kat's voice came from.

Two minutes later, and after Kat's throat was hoarse from the shouting, the two had finally met up again, and the S.P.D. assault team had contained away Lissette and her Black Ops' bodies, they moved on. The S.P.D. team stayed back to both secure the area and to watch their backs.

"How far do you think Gruumm's gotten?" Bridge asked.

"Hopefully not too far," Kat said, before coughing.

"You alright? Do you need help?" Bridge questioned, concern in his voice.

"I'm fine…throat's a little sore from all that shouting," Kat said with a pointed glance at Bridge, "but I'll live."

"Great!"

The two of them eventually emerged from the end of the corridor into yet another positively gigantic room. Except that the size of this room made the previous room seem like a comparative closet. The room rose all the way up, and catwalks again rang the whole room, each one connected to the one above or below it with a number of ladders. However, it wasn't the room itself that stunned the two agents. It was what was in the centre of the room.

A massive metallic construction rose up from the bottom of the room and over three quarters of the way up. The thing had the approximate shape of a flower bud, gently sloping inwards until they formed a point at the top.

And in front of them, leaning on the catwalk looking up and down at the thing, was Gruumm.

"Freeze Gruumm!" Bridge shouted, as he and Kat aimed their pistols at him.

"You two again?!" he shouted in frustration. "What does it take you get you off my back?"

"Doesn't matter. What are you doing?" Kat demanded with her own pistol raised.

"Well, consider that you two won't be alive in a few minutes, I suppose it couldn't hurt to tell you things again, would it?" Gruumm chuckled.

"Stop with the melodramatics and spit it out!"

"Very well then," Gruumm chuckled. "What you see here is the holding silo for the catalyst of a new galactic era. _My_ era," he stressed, and laughed evilly. The skeletal armour and his glowing red eyes accented the evilness radiating from him well.

"Inside the silo is a very powerful nuclear missile," Gruumm revealed, laughing again. He continued once he had stopped his maddening laughter. "Why do you think I started buying out all of these weapon and software companies?"

"To achieve market dominance?" Bridge suggested.

"No! …well, maybe," Gruumm added as an afterthought. "But not just because of that! Apex had superior missile designs, the thrusters design came from some company whose name I can't remember, and most importantly, apart from the warhead which I gained from the EyeNet data disc, the guidance software came from Soltech, whose guidance systems are virtually second to none!"

"And so, with this mishmash of systems and designs, I have created the perfect cross-galactic nuclear missile, and I am going to use it to end this current era of the galactic governing body, and to put in my own system!"

Gruumm ended his monologue by throwing his head back, and laughing as Kat and Bridge stared at him.

"…right. We'll take you in now and end your pathetic dreams of galactic domination," Kat said, shaking her head.

"Ah, but that 'dream' is about to become a reality!" Gruumm laughed again, before lifting up a small radio, and pressing the button. "Control, begin the launch sequence!"

"You wouldn't!" Bridge shouted.

"I just did!" Gruumm laughed again. "I'll see the two of you when this is over!"

Before Kat or Bridge could protest, Gruumm sprinted away.

"Damn it!" Bridge exclaimed.

"We've got to stop him!" Kat stated, before running after Gruumm. "Hurry up and follow me!"

The two agents sprinted after Gruumm, who was now climbing up the ladder to the catwalk above them. As soon as the CEO had climbed to the top, he used his personal laser pistol to blast out the hinges holding the ladder in place, causing the ladder to fall down.

"We can't go after him," Kat said, looking up worriedly and biting her lip. "What do we do?"

Bridge looked around, before noticing the ladder also leading up, a quarter of the way around the room.

"There's another ladder! Come on, quickly!" he shouted over the blare of sirens and flashing lights as the missile began its warm up. Smoke issued from the silo as it slowly began to open up like a flower.

The two of them ran, heedless of the lasers that chased at their heels. Krybots from the upper levels took pot-shots at them as Bridge blindly fired a few from his own pistol, forcing them back as they reached the ladder.

"Ladies first," Bridge said, indicating very quickly for Kat to go first. As she scaled the ladder, he was thankful that she wasn't wearing a skirt.

"Come on! I've got you covered!" Kat shouted at from above, firing a laser that blasted a Krybot off its feet. As Bridge ascended the ladder, a laser struck next to the ladder.

"Hey!" he shouted, and turned to see a Krybot running at him. "I could've fallen and died!" he shouted at the Krybot, grabbing his pistol and firing while holding onto the ladder. His shots blasted the Krybot over the railing.

At last, he reached the top of the ladder, and Kat took a break from blowing away Krybots to help haul him up.

"Thanks," he said, grinning as he and Kat placed a series of laser in a charging Bluehead. It flopped down with a mechanical cry of anger.

"Let's hurry before Gruumm can do anything," Kat said, as the two of them bolted down the catwalk, still ignoring lasers and the ever-present sirens as well as the computerised voice declaring they had six minutes until launch.

"Where is he?" Bridge shouted.

"There!" Kat shouted back, pointing at the level above them, where Gruumm was scaling yet another ladder to the control room, which was only a level away from him.

They continued to run and climb ladders, occasionally blasting the odd Krybot or Bluehead out of the way. The silo was now beginning to split open, as each of the four sections slowly started to unfold. Lines formed, running down the length of the silo as the silo's walls opened backwards. The catwalks themselves started to lift up to accommodate the four walls of the silo, and on the level where the control room was set, Bridge and Kat saw the catwalk lifting up.

"Damn it, run faster!" Kat shouted to Bridge, who was in front. The catwalk hadn't raised much, but at the rate it was rising, it would be impossible to pass soon.

Bridge reached the rising section first, bounding up it and taking a small jump off the end and onto the section that was still whilst lasers flew past. The few Krybots that were on his part were quickly destroyed with precise lasers as Kat ran up the rapidly rising 'ramp'. She reached the top, and took a bounding leap off and into the air. Seconds later, she slammed back onto the catwalk in a crouch, but didn't fall.

"Looks like cats always do land on their feet," Bridge remarked over the sounds of chaos happening around them.

"Earth saying?"

"Yeah."

The two of them now ran for the control room, a large group of Krybots hot on their tails.

"Hand me a grenade!" Kat shouted as she ran.

"What type?!" Bridge hollered back.

"One that causes explosions!"

"Here!" Bridge shouted, handing a fragmentation grenade to Kat, who pulled the pin and rolled it back.

Several seconds later, the grenade exploded, and threw half a dozen Krybots over the edge of the railing, and destroying just as many. The sudden reduction in numbers meant that far fewer lasers were shot at the two, and they made their way to the control room, which was in the middle of being locked down in preparation for the firing.

"_T-minus three minutes and fifty nine seconds, and counting," _the smooth voice declared over the PA.

"We'd better hurry," Kat said as they reached the door.

"Cullen, can you hear me?" Bridge asked over the radio to the S.P.D. assault team. "Damn it, do you read?!"

"We read you sir, what's going on?" the Red Ranger asked.

"Get on the horn to the Boundless and tell them to drop every single Ranger they have into where I am, out!" Bridge shouted before turning off his radio.

Reaching the entrance to the control room, Kat tried the door, only to find that her efforts were unsuccessful. When she tried to kick it in, and failed, she resorted to shooting the door with her pistol. Then she kicked it, and the door finally gave way.

Stepping into the room with pistols raised, the first thing Kat and Bridge saw were the two technicians who were operating the consoles that undoubtedly controlled the missile. The two technicians were frightened out of their wits when they saw the two agents, and instantly ducked behind cover, or rather, dropped to the ground and crawled underneath the consoles, their hands held over their heads and whimpering in fear. They were of no major concern. What really concerned the two agents was Gruumm, who was standing behind the two technicians and staring at the two agents in anger.

"What! You two again?!"

"Yup, us again," Bridge confirmed. "Now, hands up and face the wall! After stopping the countdown," he added as an afterthought.

"Gah! Never!" Gruumm declared, before leaping at the two agents.

Kat and Bridge both stepped out of the way (but in opposite directions) as Gruumm flew in between them. Both of them lashed out with a kick at the same time, sending Gruumm to the wall, against which he crashed heavily against.

"_T-minus two minutes, and counting."_

Gruumm roared something incomprehensible as he got up, and stopped as he saw the two pistols trained on him. Then, one of the technicians gained some bravery, and grabbed Kat's shoulder, wrenching her pistol away from Gruumm.

"You shall not harm the Emperor!" he declared, before Kat smashed her fist into his face, knocking the person back to the floor as well as a few teeth.

"Fine: I'll harm you instead," she snarled at the prone form of the technician, even as Gruumm leapt at Bridge.

The agent was tackled to the ground and was forced to fight off Gruumm's blows, before managing to get in a donkey kick that knocked the 'Emperor' against the far wall, rendering Gruumm unconscious. Bridge scrambled to his feet, staring at the unmoving but still breathing form of Gruumm: for some reason, he was expecting a much bigger fight.

"_T-minus fifty nine seconds, and counting."_

"Ah hell," Bridge muttered, looking nervously out the window at the sleek, slender form of the nuclear missile in the middle of the completely unfolded silo.

Kat was at the console, working her hardest to stop the countdown. The two technicians stood very far away from her and her fist. Bridge stood next to her, and noticed the beads of sweat starting to form as she worked around the various security systems. Rummaging around his pockets, he eventually found a (clean) tissue, which he used to wipe the beads of sweat off her forehead.

"Thanks," Kat said, barely a whisper as she continued to hammer away at the keys.

"No problem," Bridge whispered back in hushed tones, even though he had no idea why.

"_T-minus thirty seconds, and counting."_

"Kat…not to pressure you or anything, but we've got less than half a minute before the entire galaxy is plunged into chaos," Bridge nervously said.

Kat didn't say anything and instead, seemed to type even faster, if that was even possible.

"_T-minus twenty seconds, and counting."_

Bridge now wondered what was going to happen if the missile launched. Maybe, just maybe, if they were really lucky, not all the officials would be at the meeting place when the missile struck. Maybe then there would still be some sort of control throughout the galaxy…

"_T-minus ten seconds and cou—…missile launch sequence aborted."_

"Huh? Wha?" Bridge said in shock, as Kat let out a huge sigh of relief. He glanced down at the screen, where he realised that she had just managed to hack through the security systems, and had stopped the missile launch.

"Thank God that's over," Kat said, closing her eyes as Bridge tentatively patted her shoulder. Kat then just collapsed onto Bridge, embracing him tightly.

They were still embracing when dozens of rappelling lines dropped down into the silo room, and even more Rangers rappelled down, blowing away the last of the Krybot resistance. The control room doors, which were once again closed, exploded open, and a team of Rangers stormed in shouting. The world seemed so very surreal around the S.P.D. Intelligence agent and the Chimera agent as they embraced in the middle of the room, oblivious to their surroundings.


	21. Not the End

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: Woohoo, I got a chapter up in record time xD Where I am, it's late Christmas Eve, so think of this chapter as my Christmas present to you readers out there!

Merry Christmas to all of you!

And sorry for the lack of a chapter dedication last time. It kinda slipped my mind, so sorry about that! I'll dedicate this chapter to Kat Ranger, who's been a good friend to me as well and a constant reviewer. Here's to you! Now, this chapter HAS been beta-ed by BB, so welcome back! Thanks to BB again, and now, I'll shut up and let you get on with the reading!

Read, enjoy, and make my Christmas morning by reviewing please!!!!

Merry Christmas!

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

"_I suppose this was the biggest shock of the whole incident. This was when we learned that everything that our agents have done, everything they succeeded in doing and every victory they won for us was all planned out." _

"_My first coherent thought after those mad few hours of fighting against the enemy? Whoever planned this was a goddamned genius." _

_Two anonymous S.P.D. Rangers, discussing the Rebellion_

**

* * *

**

Time: 1252 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Control room in silo room of Gruumm's secret fortress on Agasoi Prime

The S.P.D. Rangers seemingly ignored the two agents as they swept into the room, and fell upon the prone forms of the two terrified technicians (one of whom had a cracked lip and a bruised jaw from Kat's punch) and Gruumm, who was just starting to regain consciousness. Two of the biggest and burliest Rangers, armed to the teeth approached the fallen madman, who was just starting to groan and recover from unconsciousness. The two Rangers hauled him up as Bridge and Kat separated, before handcuffing his wrists together behind his back. They weren't taking any chances before containing him.

"Curse you, agents!" Gruumm shouted angrily once he had fully awakened and realised that he was being put away.

"Ya know," Bridge commented to Kat. "He doesn't really seem all that frightening when he's being cuffed and contained."

"Agreed," Kat smiled slightly.

As more Rangers began filling up the room and checking it over for any more hidden booby traps, Bridge suddenly remembered the data disc part that Gruumm had. Kat cocked her head slightly in curiosity as Bridge went to Gruumm, before shaking her head and moving to join him.

"What are you doing?" she asked once she had caught up.

"Tying up one last loose end," he replied, before asking one of the Rangers who had cuffed Gruumm (and who was nearly a head taller than him) "did he have anything on him?"

"Just this broken data disc," the Ranger replied in a deep voice that suited his massive stature. He held the broken data disc, which gleamed in all its red and gold glory in the overhead lighting in his fingers. The small silver eagle was there as well, and since it had been taken off Gruumm, Bridge was absolutely certain that this was the final missing piece.

"May I? Commander Cruger wants me to bring this to him," Bridge said.

The Ranger grunted in non-committal, uncaring way and handed the disc to Bridge. "Whatever. What the Commander says, goes."

"Thanks," Bridge said, pocketing it before remembering Kat and that she worked for Chimera. "And I suppose you probably want this as well…so what do we do?"

Kat deliberated on the matter.

"Well, I can't disobey my orders and not hand it to the Commander…maybe we can break it in half, and you keep one while I—…"

"Stuff Beutat and whatever he wants," Kat said, surprising Bridge.

"What?"

"I don't really care about whether he gets that disc segment or not," Kat said. "You keep it, and give it to your Commander."

"But won't he be…"

"Mad at me? He would, if he wasn't so damned infatuated with me that he's willing to forgive nearly everything I don't do," Kat said, with a smirk. "I'll just tell him that you got to it first."

"Oh, well, thanks, I guess," Bridge said, feeling decidedly unsure of himself.

"Don't mention it, it's nothing," Kat said as the two of them walked away.

"You two don't get it, do you?" Gruumm laughed from behind them, all traces of anger seemingly evaporated. His two guards went to contain him, but Bridge turned around and stopped them with a slashing motion of his hand. Something compelled him to hear what Gruumm had to say.

"Get what?" Bridge asked, as Kat turned around to face him as well.

"My influence is everywhere," Gruumm said. "You didn't think I was the only one in this whole galaxy who thought of upturning the power table and shifting it into my hands?"

"You're the only crazy enough to think that it may actually happen," Kat pointed out.

"Fools!" Gruumm laughed. "You may have captured me, but this is only the beginning! I promise you this: in the next few months, everything will change. And none of you will be prepared for it!"

"Yeah yeah, you sure are right about the galaxy changing: it's gonna change for the better with you locked away in a containment card," Bridge said dismissively. "Now, prepare to say hello to your new home inside a containment card."

"Do you really think it's just about me?!" Gruumm demanded, still laughing. "You're even bigger fools than I initially thought! Did you know S.P.D. and Chimera, whatever it is that they've been doing these last few months, has been at my behest? S.P.D. and Chimera have been under _my_ control! Your so-called 'commanders' are nothing more than pawns that _I_ control!"

"…now we know that you really are deluded," Bridge sighed.

"He must be, to think that he controls S.P.D. or Chimera," Kat shook her head. "There are other weapons manufacturers out there, Gruumm. You're not the only one willing to supply us with weapons. Just because your company manufactures most of our weapons doesn't mean that you control it."

"Who said it was about weapons? I can completely control S.P.D. or Chimera without the need of threatening to cut off supplies of weaponry!" Gruumm revealed.

"Right," Bridge said, still not believing Gruumm. "Say 'hi' to your new home."

"Nooooooooooooooo!—"

Gruumm's scream of anger was abruptly cut short when a morpher flashed, and secured him away into a small, thin containment card.

"I'll get you two for this! You'll pay! You'll all pay!" Gruumm screamed from within the card.

"Why do they always want to do it the hard way?" Bridge sighed as Kat shrugged. Gruumm's card was then sealed into a container, which was then taken out of the control room, under the guardianship of a full team of Guardian rangers, who were the best of the best out of S.P.D.'s entire Ranger corps. The rest of the Rangers in the room soon followed, until it was empty again.

"Doesn't matter," Kat shrugged. "I'd better get going as well. Beutat's going to want to know what happened."

"Do you need a lift or something?" Bridge asked, starting to walk out.

"No…come to think of it, can I borrow your radio for the time being? Mine was destroyed," Kat said.

"Sure thing." Bridge handed Kat his radio and headset soon after and waited for her outside the room whilst she conversed with her commander.

It didn't take long for her to come out.

"Thanks."

"No problem," Bridge replied, pocketing the radio and headset within his armoured vest.

"Well, this is it. I suppose I'll see you around someday," Kat said, with a faint smile at Bridge.

"Who knows?" Bridge shrugged, smiling back. "Of course, given our luck, we'll probably meet again while being shot at and hunted to death by some rogue militant group or something."

Kat laughed. "It's been nice knowing you. I'll see you…whenever we next meet," she farewelled him, before hugging him. She turned, slid down the ladder (the missile had been confiscated by the S.P.D. frigate above) and had reached the next one. She gave one last glance at Bridge, who gave her a salute. Grinning, she stepped onto the ladder.

"Ma'am, wait up!" a frantic voice caused her to stop, and look back up.

An S.P.D. Red Ranger was running towards her, sliding down the ladder as she hauled herself back up.

"Yes?"

"I think you'd better take these with you," the Ranger said, before holding out ten containment cards. Kat's breath choked in her throat when she realised that each held the body of one of the deceased Black Ops in Team Gamma-Eight.

"Thank you," she said, before putting them away in a secure pocket.

"No problem, have a good day ma'am."

**

* * *

**

Time: 1638 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Primary Landing Bay, Chimera Mobile HQ

_**Phoenix**_

The dropship ride had been unusually quiet. Of course, the fact that she was the only person in the passenger bay, which hours ago, had been filled with ten joking Black Ops could've been the reason why. Now the entire dropship only housed thee persons: the pilot, his co-pilot and herself. She stared at the ten containment cards she held and wondered what she was going to do. The cards normally had to be opened with a designated reader which would then pop it open. But there was the 'emergency' way of opening the cards: simply snapping the top off would cause the card to release its prisoner inside.

A slight amount of static overcame the intercom in the passenger bay, before the pilot's voice sounded.

"We're landing in the _Phoenix_ now, agent. Welcome home."

"Thanks," Kat said, not connected to herself as she heard the words. Something about leaving the field of battle where the line between good and evil was clear had forced her mind to become contemplative. There was something about Chimera and something aboard the _Phoenix_ that she just didn't like, and she couldn't seem to pin it down.

Then she was jolted out of her thoughts when the dropship shook as it landed on the floor of the landing bay. A series of clamps dangling from the ceiling dropped down and activated, each clanging against the dropship's hull. She knew it was for hoisting the dropship up as soon as everyone had disembarked, to make room for the next dropship or shuttle to land.

The passenger bay door opened, unfolding to become a ramp. Kat stepped down, and no sooner had she set foot on the _Phoenix_ did Felix suddenly appear from nowhere, and grabbed the agent in an embrace.

"Kat!" he nearly shouted, before realising where they were, released her and took a step back. "It's good to see you, I mean," he said, sounding professional.

"Good to see you as well," Kat replied tiredly with a smile.

"You need any patching up before you see the commander?" Felix asked with a grimace as he said 'commander'.

"I don't think so, but can you handle these?" Kat asked, and held out the ten containment cards. Felix took them, and was taken back when he saw the bodies held within them.

"None of the Black Ops made it back," Kat sighed heavily, looking away.

"Not even Lissette?"

Kat shook her head.

"I'll take care of this, don't you worry about that," Felix said gravely. "You just get yourself to Beutat for your debriefing, and then come to see me."

"Will do," Kat said with another tired smile, before trudging off in the direction of Beutat's office, again not looking forward to it.

* * *

A good twenty minutes of tired walking later and Kat was again inside the briefing room. However, it wasn't packed as usual with people waiting for their meetings with the Commander. Instead, what caught her attention was the fact that security was being upped: a pair of Black Ops stood guard with their weapons held across their armoured chests, while two engineering crews set up a pair of heavy laser turrets on either side of the door, each to be manned by another pair of Black Ops. Frowning as she approached the door, one of the Black Ops held out his hand.

"Weapon and ID," he ordered.

Kat gave him a look as she dropped her pistol and ID into his palm and waited.

"Very well, you may enter. You can collect your weapon afterwards."

Kat nodded and proceeded to walk past them and into the room beyond, which was Betuat's office. As usual, the coffee-drinking Chimera Commander was sitting at his desk with his usual mug of coffee. And as usual, he didn't waste time at his attempts to seduce her.

"Kat, Kat, Kat, you'll never know how happy I am to see that you've pulled through that hellhole alive," he said with a big grin.

"The other two Black Ops teams were completely destroyed, sir, but Gruumm was apprehended," Kat said.

"Well, that's good," Beutat nodded, though Kat wasn't sure if he was talking about the Black Ops team or Gruumm's capture. "And he's under S.P.D. jurisdiction?"

"In a containment card, yes."

"And did you recover anything from him? Like a portion of a data disc?" Beutat asked, leaning forward, most likely in anticipation. Kat was about to give him his biggest disappointment though, and although she wouldn't say it aloud, she was looking forward to his disappointment.

"No sir," she said, and looked on with hidden glee as his face fell.

"All…alright then Kat, I don't think there's anything else," Beutat mumbled.

"May I leave now?"

"Permission granted, dismissed," Beutat said.

"Thank you sir." Kat turned around to leave, deciding not to question Beutat about the sudden increase in security around his door.

"Kat."

Grinding her teeth in frustration, Kat turned around and gave Beutat her best neutral expression.

"Yes sir?"

"Where do your loyalties lie Kat?" Beutat asked, sounding more serious than she had ever heard him.

"Excuse me sir?" Kat looked genuinely confused.

"Are you loyal to Chimera, me, or what?" Beutat rephrased his question.

"It lies with our principle: to protect this galaxy's citizens from harm," Kat answered.

Beutat nodded gravely. "Thank you Kat. You may go now. What we have just said is private, between you and me only."

"I understand sir."

**

* * *

**

Time: 1712 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Infirmary onboard Chimera Mobile HQ

_**Phoenix**_

"Vitals are normal, heart rate is normal, blood pressure and all of that is normal," Felix said, as Kat sat on the bed. "You're well."

"Thanks Felix," Kat said, before finding her gaze drawn to the body of Lissette, lying on the bed not too far from her own.

Felix followed her gaze. "She had a fiancé."

"What?"

"Lissette, she had a fiancé. Didn't she tell you?"

Kat shook her head.

"I imagine that she was going to tell you after that mission," Felix said sombrely. "Too bad she never got that chance. Here," he handed her a pair of pills and a glass of water, "take these, and _rest_. You need it."

Kat swallowed the pills, and downed half the glass of water. She fell back onto her bed, and began drifting off as the powerful sleeping agents worked their way through her system.

"Do you ever…get that feeling…that something is…wrong?" Kat asked, struggling to stay awake.

"Why?" Felix asked.

"I got that feeling…again…something's off…I just don't know what…"

"Rest Kat, rest. You can think about it later," Felix soothed, brushing some strands of hair off her forehead.

Kat didn't answer. She was already asleep.

**

* * *

**

Time: 1715 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Landing Bay 12, S.P.D. Central HQ, outbound from Akaih VII system

Unlike Kat, who had received a rather sterile reception with the exception of Felix, Bridge received what seemed like a rock star reception. As soon as the two dropships landed, and the two Ranger teams exited, dozens of other Rangers, technicians and engineers cheered wildly. Bridge felt his cheeks heat up, and he knew he was blushing from all the attention. The Rangers, having also demorphed, blushed, some more than others, and others not at all, waved back modestly into the crowd. A few even let off several streamers from the catwalks above, and it took the crowd a mighty long time to calm down and to get back to whatever they had been doing before their arrival.

Gruumm's containment card was instantly whisked away to the detention cells, where he was to be held until his questioning and before his trial. The team of Guardian Rangers escorted the two Rangers to the cells, while Sky and Syd, both on their lunch breaks, met Bridge.

"OhmyGod Bridge!" Syd squealed in delight as she flung her arms around him. "You're alive!"

"Not for much longer if you keep this up," Sky chuckled as he pried Syd off Bridge, before reaching over and clapping him on the shoulder. "Great job Bridge."

"Well, it wasn't just me…you have to thank Kat for what she did as well," Bridge blushed as the three of them began to walk out of the landing bay.

"But she isn't here, and so we only have you to thank," Sky smiled. "Now, as much as Syd would like to talk, Cruger wants to talk to you. Best not keep the old dog waiting."

"Of course not, not when he's top dog," Bridge said, laughing.

"If you two are through with the dog jokes now?" Syd said, smiling herself as well. "We'll meet you in the cafeteria after for lunch, Bridge."

"Sure thing, bye," Bridge waved as he turned in another direction that led to Cruger's office, while Sky and Syd went in another towards the cafeteria.

Looking out one of the windows as he walked along, Bridge saw the S.P.D. frigate _Boundless_ flying lazy loops around the station. It had been the frigate which had taken him from Agasoi Prime, the location of Gruumm's secret fortress back to the S.P.D. Central HQ. Now its captain was simply waiting for its next patrol assignment, which would undoubtedly come after Cruger's meeting with Bridge.

Turning into the lobby, Bridge was instantly noticed by Lisa, who waved her arms frantically to get his attention. Of course, given how hard she was waving her arms, it was rather hard not to grab anyone's attention that way.

"Hey," Bridge greeted as he walked to the desk.

"How's my man?" Lisa said back coyly, looking up and batting her eyelashes at him.

"I'm very good, thanks for asking. I'll just sign in here, and be off on my way," Bridge said, signing his name before walking off down the corridor before Lisa had another chance to slip in another flirt attempt.

"Lunch in the cafeteria after?!" she called after him desperately.

"Sorry, someone else already offered!" Bridge called back, before disappearing completely into the corridor…and another person came up to Lisa's desk.

Some more walking later, and Bridge was outside the door to Commander Cruger's office. He tapped on the intercom, and as usual, Cruger's overworked aide's stressed voice snappily asked for his business. And after answering, and having his meeting confirmed, the door opened. Stepping past the poor aide, who was quite literally buried neck deep in paper, Bridge entered the room beyond.

Compared to the warzone that was his aide's desk, Cruger's desk was a scene of tranquillity, as far, far fewer sheets were stacked up, and it was much clearer. Of course, that may have been due to the fact that Cruger generally crammed everything else into the deep bottom drawer that his desk featured but was invisible to everyone standing in front of it. The letters from his wife alone (which he crammed into that bottom drawer, along with all of the current week's used and empty aspirin bottles) would've turned his desk from neat and tidiness into something that resembled his aide's desk. The Commander himself was reading through a report as Bridge entered and saluted.

"Commander," Bridge said. "Agent Carson reporting."

"At ease Bridge," Cruger grunted, putting down the report and looking up at Bridge. "How'd it go?"

"Gruumm was captured with no losses, except for the Black Ops teams that Chimera sent," Bridge said. "Also, I recovered this from Gruumm."

Bridge dug around in his pocket until he pulled out the portion of the data disc. He handed it to Cruger, who looked rather shocked at the sight of it.

"It's the real one this time, sir," Bridge said with a faint smile. "The one that Sky's team recovered and that I got from Valda was nothing more than a very accurate duplicate."

"Very good," Cruger breathed, before placing it back on his desk. "Looks like we'll have to secure it straight away, before anything else can happen to it."

"And sir…what happened to the missile that Gruumm was going to fire?"

"The _Boundless_ recovered it, and even as we speak, it's being transported to a safe location to be dismantled and disposed of safely," Cruger said dismissively, as if it was the last thing on his mind. "Don't worry about it: it's no longer a threat."

"Alright sir…"

"And before I send you on your next assignment Bridge…take a day or two off. You deserve it," Cruger all but ordered, picking up the report he had been reading before.

"Yes sir," Bridge saluted. "Only too happy to oblige."

"Thought you were going to say that. Dismissed," Cruger said, reaching into his desk to retrieve another bottle of aspirin. It was rather amazing, given the amount of aspirin that Cruger consumed a day, that he hadn't eaten the infirmary and medical stocks out of aspirin yet. Ever since he had started to take the little miracle (at least, in his eyes) pills in large quantities, Syd had thoughtfully began to order extra stocks of aspirin in each monthly medical resupply, an order he was only too happy to sign off. And so, the stocks of aspirin remained within normal levels, Cruger remained happy, and all was well. At least, temporarily. What was to come would shake the foundations of everything that S.P.D. fought for and enforced, and would forever remain known as the galaxy's darkest hour.

**

* * *

**

Time: 1441 hours, galactic standard time, three months later / Location: Hallway A12-Section D, leading to Infirmary, Chimera Mobile HQ

_**Phoenix**_

"Another day, another assignment, another tick to my record," Kat sighed as she made her way through the halls of the Phoenix towards the Infirmary.

The last couple of months had been completely routine for her. Most of them were the standard 'get in, blow apart everything that needs to be blown apart, get out' kind of assignments, which compared to the high-stakes and high danger one that was tracking down and capturing Gruumm, were boring, to say in the least. There were no super-powered BlackGuard-like enemies, no huge masses of Krybots, no twists and turns in a dangerous metallic maze. It felt like she was working a normal 9 to 5 day job instead of a dangerous job as Chimera's top agent!

However, her latest assignment seemed so very suspicious: a small arms smuggling group based on Earth, whom she had orders to capture both the smugglers and the stocks. It also would've been her last assignment, if Jack and Z hadn't procured floor plans for the building. Aiola had strongly recommended to her to enter through a particular doorway, but after consulting the floor plan, she realised that that particular doorway led straight into a large room. She had found the easier route: the ventilation system, which also led into a small storage which led to the main room. Needless to say, she was rather shocked when she found that a pair of mounted lasers was covering the doorway that she had been recommended to go through. After that realisation, it was only a matter of about half an hour before she had captured everyone, and the dropship had picked her, the people she had captured and the cargo up.

While deemed successful, Kat was starting to have doubts cloud her mind. Why had she been recommended to go through a door that was covered by a pair of heavy lasers? Not even she could survive that. And how had the people there known that she was recommended to go through that door? No one had been at that briefing except for herself and Aiola…

She shook those thoughts out of her head as the door to the infirmary came up. She'd bring it up with Felix as soon as they could have a private conversation.

"Hello? Felix?" she called into the empty infirmary as soon as she entered.

When no answer came, she frowned, and continued to pick her way through the place.

"Look darlin', he's not 'ere," one irritated nurse told her.

"What do you mean?"

"'e got reassigned to some dumbshit planet, I dunno which. You can tell I ain't happy with dat, 'cos it burns a 'ell of a 'ole in our system."

"…right, well, thank you," Kat carefully said, wondering what the hell was happening.

"No problem, darlin'. Come back 'ere anytime you need patchin' up. Of course, without 'im around, it ain't gonna be as good," the nurse mumbled to herself as Kat left.

The agent's eyes narrowed as she remembered the only person to allow or block transfers…or to transfer someone themselves. With that in mind, she marched towards Beutat's office. The two weapon emplacements had been complete, and were manned by a pair of Black Ops, who currently were sitting aside. Another pair of Black Ops guarded the door leading to Beutat's office, and stopped the agent when she approached.

"Do you have an appointment with the Commander?" one droned.

"No, but I need to clarify with him something—…"

"You need an appointment in order to see the Commander," the other interrupted.

Kat sighed in frustration. "Look, just tell him that Agent Manx wants to ask him something. I'm sure he'll allow me a few minutes."

One of the Black Ops chuckled and smirked behind his helmet. "That's what they all say. Tell you what, Agent Manx…I'll do it, if only to see the look on your face when he refuses to meet with you."

"Fine."

Not ten seconds later, the Black Ops came back out. "The Commander will see you now," he reluctantly said.

"Thank you."

The door opened, and Kat stepped into Beutat's office once more.

"Sir," she saluted.

"At ease Kat," Beutat said, stopping whatever it was that he was doing, leaned back on the chair and looked up at her. "So, what did you want?"

"Where's Felix?" Kat asked simply, walking to and leaning over his desk.

"Felix…well, he's been reassigned," Beutat said with a nasty smile. "Unfortunately, I can't tell you where, for…security reasons."

"Of…course, sir. I understand," Kat bowed her head, before turning around and leaving outright. Her world had suddenly and inexplicably turned upside down. Without Felix, and with the deaths of everyone in Black Ops Team Alpha-Four and Gamma-Eight, she was left alone on the _Phoenix_, and friendless. Everybody now was a potential enemy.

**

* * *

**

Time: 1742 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Combat simulator deck, S.P.D. Central HQ

"And down he goes," Bridge mumbled, before raising his pistol and blasting the Krybot off the roof.

It fell in seemingly slow motion, before the rooftop, the sky and the Krybot began to disappear, falling into pieces as a stark white room began to take their places. Eventually, a white room took the place of the rooftop as the simulator was turned off.

"Twenty five Krybots, five and a half minutes. Score: two hundred and eighty seven, Bridge Carson," the female computer voice read out as a few people waiting for their turn whooped and cheered.

He blushed as he stepped out of the simulator, and the next group of Rangers went in, cracking knuckles in anticipation. Sweating all over from the exertion, Bridge decided to take a break in the showers. And that was exactly what he did.

Five minutes later, feeling refreshed once again, Bridge walked out into the suitably dull mood of the corridors. Dozens of officers and cadets walked past him, some nodding a greeting, others not even acknowledging his presence. Bridge sighed as he recalled the problem.

Supreme Commander Birdie Fowler.

Lately, the Supreme Commander had an unhealthy (for its occupants, at least) fixation on the S.P.D. Central HQ. It started out as occasional transmissions enquiring as to the station's general status, before a constant stream of messages, and then the occasional, sporadic visit, until finally, the Supreme Commander had decided to stay at the station for an unspecified length of time.

And everyone was starting to feel the burden of his command. No sooner had he announced that he was staying had he also announced that he was taking command of the station, with Cruger pushed aside and delegated to the role of 'secondary Commander and adviser'. While Cruger's command had been somewhat harsh, he knew when to give people breaks, and did not mind socialising amongst his subordinates…as long as they did their job. He also knew when people had done their best but still failed at something and therefore was more forgiving. Cruger's command had perhaps been the best that the S.P.D. Central HQ had seen for quite some time.

That all changed when Fowler took command.

If anyone on the station who had been with Cruger for any amount of time greater than four months was asked to describe Fowler's command in a single word, they would've said dictatorship or any form or variant of that word. Fowler ruled with an iron fist: he did not give people breaks between assignments, he did not accept failure, and he totally did not accept any form of socialising while on the job. It was a small surprise then that more and more began to feel the stress of his command, and each and every single one of them was starting to wonder when the Supreme Commander would go back to wherever it was he came from.

"Hey Sky," Bridge greeted as he ran into the Co-Commander in the halls.

"Bridge," Sky distracted mumbled, before continuing on his way, Bridge frowning and following.

"What's wrong?"

"Too many things," Sky muttered, hurriedly going in another corridor.

"Like what?"

"Fowler's barking up my ass with all these reports, I have to brief a team of Rangers on their next mission, I got another team of Rangers to train, and I have to supervise yet another team's simulation training to see if they're ready for full-frontline combat," Sky said, gritting his teeth.

"Sounds like a real handful. How's Syd?" Bridge asked, keeping up with Sky's pace.

"I've been caught up with so much work lately that I haven't had time to catch up with her," Sky replied.

"So we agree that Fowler's an asshole?"

"Most definitely yes. Look Bridge, I really got a lot on my plate at the moment," Sky sighed, stopping to face the agent. "I'll see if we can catch up sometime, alright? But not now."

Bridge nodded. "Alright…see you soon?"

"Yeah."

Just as Bridge was starting to walk somewhere again, Supreme Commander Birdie Fowler walked past him, and then stopped.

"Agent Carson!" he said, not turning around, but stopping.

"Yes sir?"

"Why aren't you on an assignment?" the Supreme Commander questioned.

"Because…I got back from one recently, and there hasn't been much going on," Bridge answered.

"Well, why aren't you at training then?"

"I just came out of the simulator a few minutes ago, sir," Bridge said, looking confused.

"Well, you better get back in there, agent. S.P.D.'s best agent can hardly afford to have time to rest or lounge around: you should always be on an assignment, or if there aren't any assignments, you should training," Fowler said with his 'hands' on his hips and his chest puffed out.

"…of course sir," Bridge tentatively answered. "It will be a bit hard to get back in the simulator. All of them are being used, and there are still people waiting."

"Well then, you had best hurry up, stop wise-cracking back at me and get in line before more people line up, don't you think?" Fowler smirked.

"Of course…sir." Bridge saluted before turning away and headed back to the simulator deck.

* * *

Outside the S.P.D. Central HQ, a small fleet of S.P.D. vessels had gathered. It was hardly a rare sight: the S.P.D. Central HQ not only functioned as a command centre, it also acted as a resupply point to the many vessels in the S.P.D. fleet. Some of those ships now were docked with the station, taking on supplies that the station carried specifically for the vessels that docked with it. However, only about half of those vessels that had gathered had captains who Cruger knew. The other half came from battlegroups that Fowler commanded. It was the same situation inside. As soon as he had taken charge, the Supreme Commander had began rotating out different Ranger teams to different bases, and bringing others in. It eventually came to a point that only twenty five percent of the Rangers that were stationed on the S.P.D. Central HQ had been part of the station's crew for more than a year, and the other seventy five percent came from S.P.D. Headquarters. Which explained why so few Rangers greeted Bridge as he made his way through the halls: so few of them knew him or vice versa.

While Bridge headed for the simulator deck again, the Supreme Commander headed the entirely opposite way, and not towards either the Command and Control Centre, or Cruger's office, or even his own office or quarters. Instead, he headed for the cells, and more specifically, the cell in which Gruumm was being kept. The prisoners who were deemed too dangerous were kept onboard the S.P.D. Central HQ, given how difficult it would be to escape. And even if they did get out of their cells and past the guards and quite literally an entire army of Rangers, they would still have to capture a shuttle or dropship to get off the station. Every now and then however, the prisoners were released from their containment cards and placed into cells. And for Gruumm, his time in the cells was now.

The Supreme Commander passed the various security checkpoints leading to the cells, displaying his ID whenever necessary and going through the various eye scans and DNA checks. Security around the cells was among the tightest in the station and indeed in this sector of the galaxy. Of course, given that the cells often held the vilest and most evil and cunning of criminals, it was more than understandable, and definitely justifiable.

Four of the Rangers broke off from their guard duty and began escorting the Supreme Commander, their weapons held across their chests. Incidentally, the Rangers who had chosen to be an escort were all Rangers that had come from the S.P.D. Headquarters, while the Rangers who had been stationed in the S.P.D. Central HQ for some time looked on confusedly. Was there some kind of un-stated rule that said that the Supreme Commander had to be escorted at all times by at least two Rangers? Then they shrugged and got back to guarding and manning the security checkpoint.

Into the deeper into the rows of cells, Fowler eventually stopped at a cell at the very end of the corridor, which a single Ranger stood in front of.

"Supreme Commander Sir…what're you doing here?" the Ranger asked, confused.

"Taking care of business," Fowler replied, his hand on his blade.

He pulled the blade out and across the Ranger's chest in one smooth motion. With a battle cry he swung it down diagonally, tearing a trail of sparks across the Ranger's suit as the armour reacted violently to the blade, and finally, he drew it across the Ranger's chest, sending him spinning backwards to the floor, where he lay still. As everyone reacted to the unexpected attack, the four Rangers who had followed Fowler turned about. Two of them dropped into a kneeling stance, their rifles shouldered, whilst the other two remained standing behind them. Before the other Rangers in the halls could do so much as shout in surprise, Fowler's Rangers fired. Lasers lashed down the hallway, blasting the other Rangers off their feet. The few Rangers manage to escape the first barrage by dropping to the floor, but they had barely managed to get off a single shot before they too were blasted away. One of the Rangers smashed his hand against the alarm, setting off the warning sirens and klaxons, before he too was gunned down.

"Open this door," Gruumm commanded from in his cell.

"Of course, Emperor," Fowler bowed his head, before turning to one of the Rangers who had come with him. "Open this door."

The Ranger nodded, and moved forward, placing a small explosive charge on the door.

"Stand back, Emperor," the Ranger recommended, before he too scuttled away slightly.

"Fire in the hole!"

A small explosion destroyed the locking mechanism on the door, and then he hastily shoved the door aside, allowing Gruumm to step out.

"Freedom," he sighed, before turning to Fowler. "Is our escape set?"

"It will be," Fowler promised, before pulling out his communicator. "All forces, execute Operation: Trojan Horse."

If the chaos in the cells was bad, then what happened next was catastrophic. Across the entire station, whole Ranger teams suddenly turned on their fellows, and blasted them. A trio of Ranger teams was making their way to the cells when the transmission was heard.

"What the hell?" the Red Ranger of one team said confusedly, before the other two squads turned their rifles on them, firing at point-blank range. Similar happenings occurred across the entire station, as Ranger teams found themselves confused and unsure of who to fire back at.

* * *

In the Command and Control Centre, the doors opened as Commander Cruger strolled in, absolutely livid.

"What the hell's going on?" he barked, as the various officers and cadets attempted to piece together the situation.

"We don't know sir! I'm getting reports of our Rangers firing on each other across the whole station!" one officer shouted over the noise of sirens and klaxons.

"There's been a breakout in the cells! I'm not getting any response from the guards!"

"The armoury guards are reporting that they've got Rangers advancing and shooting at them!"

"Where's Tate?" Cruger bellowed.

"Working on it sir!" the communication's officer shouted.

"We're getting requests for orders from squad leaders!" another shouted.

"Put it on the main console!" Cruger ordered.

Dozens of holographic boxes floated up from the main console, each one displaying the helmet of a Red Ranger, who all desperately asked for instructions and orders. Lasers were firing in the background with the occasional explosion as grenades (at least, Cruger hoped they were grenades: anything bigger than one tended to do far more than simply scorch the walls) detonated. Eventually, Cruger noticed pattern: all the Rangers asking for orders came from the station. That meant…

"Rangers! Supreme Commander Fowler's Rangers have rebelled! Defend the station!"

"Yes sir!" they all replied, having a better idea of what was going on.

"Gnack, relay what I just said to all of the Rangers who haven't been reassigned to the station," Cruger ordered.

"Yes sir, doing so now…" the communications officer said. Cruger looked around at the entire staff and reassured himself that no-one here was going to turn their backs on him. Luckily, Fowler had not reassigned any of the S.P.D. Central HQ's Command and Control Centre officers/cadets.

The doors to the Triple C opened, and six Guardian Rangers stepped in, rifles raised.

"Commander Cruger…" the leader asked.

"I don't have time to be questioned whether I'm in on this or not!" Cruger snapped at them. "I need all the time I can get to get this mess sorted out and form a cohesive resistance before this…disaster can get any worse!"

"Sir," the six snapped to attention, now assured that Commander Cruger was not rebelling.

"Get me Carson," Cruger ordered. He prayed like hell that Bridge wasn't part of the rebels. While he could be overwhelmed, Bridge had the uncanny ability to yank victory from the jaws of defeat.

"Sir?" Bridge's voice came over the speakers. "What's going on?"

"Bridge, where are you?"

"I'm pinned down near the landing bays sir. Who's shooting who? I mean right now, I'm just shooting back at whoever shoots at me!"

"We've identified who's one of us and who's a rebel," Cruger revealed. "It appears that all of the Rangers who Fowler reassigned to this station are the ones who are attacking us!"

"And how do I exactly find out who's been reassigned to this station? I mean, we all look alike! Wait, hold up a minute sir."

A laser was fired, presumably from Bridge, and they heard the answering scream.

"So how do I identify them?"

"We're getting the Rangers on our side to start changing their ID codes. Be on a lookout for that, and I'll alert them that you're on our side."

"Thanks boss: I don't wanna shoot any friendlies by accident."

The line closed, and Cruger sighed. The Guardian Rangers had taken it upon themselves to defend the Triple C, setting themselves up across the room but facing the heavy bulkhead doors.

"Where's Tate?" Cruger demanded.

"Still working on it," one of the officers said, wiping sweat off her brow.

"Alright…time for the old dog to get back in the action," Cruger muttered to himself. He strode over to his desk in the Triple C, and once there, grabbed the Shadow Sabre that was placed on a rack in a case behind his desk.

Securing it around his waist, Cruger flexed his fingers around the handle. It felt good to have his trusty sabre in his hands again: he was easily the most proficient swordsman (or dog, in his case) and duellist on the S.P.D. Central HQ. But it had been years since he had taken up arms…

"You and you," Cruger growled, pointing at two of the Guardian Rangers. "Follow me. The rest of you, keep everyone out, no one in unless you are absolutely sure of it."

"Yes sir!"

The door opened, and Cruger stepped out, his two Guardian Rangers following with rifles raised and at the ready. He had been in more than his fair share of battles in his day as a soldier, back on Sirius, before moving onto a command position. He had seen the battles (or at least, the aftermath of them and the recordings) from his chair, and even commanded a few in his early commanding career, before taking on the position as S.P.D. Central HQ Commander (and therefore, the Commander of the field troops on a galactic scale). But just because he hadn't been in battle for a long time didn't mean he could dish out the pain. Oh no, Anubis 'Doggie' Cruger was going to make sure that the rebels wished they were never born.

**

* * *

**

Time: 1759 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Bridge of S.P.D. Destroyer

_**Alexis**_**, space outside S.P.D. Central HQ**

Captain Steele gritted his teeth as his destroyer's guns fired another salvo into the side of another S.P.D. frigate that was attacking his ship. The guns tore up the armour on the frigate badly, and the frigate desperately attempted to limp away, before a second salvo obliterated it. Such was the brutality of space warfare. Even wounded, a frigate still packed enough firepower to seriously damage his ship.

"Hanks, what the hell's happening?" he demanded.

"I'm still no sure sir, but it appears that a portion of the fleet has gone rogue!" his communications officer shouted.

"Tactical, what's our situation?"

"All systems are green, skipper! We've sustained minor damage, but nothing of a serious concern!"

"Sir, sir! I've got Commander Cruger on the line!" Lt. Hanks, the communications officer excited shouted.

"Put him through!" Captain Steele ordered.

"All S.P.D. forces, the units under Supreme Commander Fowler's command or have been reassigned to this station because of him are rebelling! They have released Gruumm from his cell! Stop them at all costs! You are authorised to use lethal force on any form of opposition and they will not hesitate to do the same!"

"Alright, you heard the old dog! Power all weapons systems and somebody get me a list of what ships had been assigned here by that treacherous bastard of a Supreme Commander we have!" Captain Steele ordered. "Get every single Ranger team we have on this ship over to the S.P.D. Central HQ, and I mean _now_! The boys over there are probably going to need a lot of help!"

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, the battle finally was starting to become clearer. With the list having been discovered minutes ago, the ship's that were rebelling became clear, and the ship's that were staying loyal also became clear. And having distributed the list amongst the other loyalists, the rebels no longer had the advantage of surprise.

Then the entire battle was turned on its head once more.

"Sir!" one of the officers on the bridge of the Alexis shouted.

"What?" Captain Steele demanded.

"Some gigantic ship has arrived!"

Outside, an enormous nine hundred metre long monstrosity of a spaceship had arrived. Bristling with weaponry, and with a giant-sized Chimera logo painted on it, it could be only one thing as it stayed near the edge of the battlefield.

"Sir! It's the _Phoenix_!"


	22. Chaos

Bridge Carson, Secret Agent Extraordinaire

A.N: Okay…I'm back! And I'm not and this fic is not dead yet! I'm really, really, really sorry about the time it took to finish this, but a number of things served to delay this chapter. First and foremost, procrastination is a massive pain in the butt. Secondly, Year 12 has started and served to prove extremely difficult, as expected. Thirdly…well, anime got in the way as well. Not to mention a friend of mine having perhaps the crappiest time of her life so far, as well as a number of other things. Again, I'm really really sorry.

But don't worry: I said it before, I'll say it again: I intend to complete this fic, no matter how long it'll take. But we are entering the final story arc, so rest assured, it probably will be soon. And hopefully the next chapter won't take so long. Thanks for bearing with me, and enjoy! Oh yeah…I broke 100,000 words with this story! Go meeeee!!!!!! Okay, I know it's been over 100,000 for a while, but first time I mentioned it ;)

As always, read, enjoy and review! Thanks to BB for continuing to be my beta, and no dedication this chapter. No real reason, just that I think it's a bit rude perhaps to dedicate this chapter which I broke numerous promises to get done soon to someone who's been sticking by me the whole time. So yeah, next time! Remember, reviews make me happy! And of course, they inspire me to write faster as well, so see ya next time!

Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers

'_The _Phoenix_ had a crew size in the high hundreds to low thousands, out of which in hindsight, approximately four to five hundred were fully trained Black Ops operatives and officers. Out of those, three hundred rebelled. Three hundred fully trained Black Ops operatives against a lone agent…the fight was almost even. Almost.' _

_Excerpt from 'The EyeNet Incident: The Recollection' _

**

* * *

**

Time: 1817 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Space outside S.P.D. Central HQ

"Sir! It's the _Phoenix_!"

Indeed it was. It stayed near the edge of the battlefield, seemingly refusing to enter the carnage that was happening in front of it. None of the S.P.D. ships, rebel or otherwise, shot at it, both wondering what the _Phoenix_ was going to do next. And of course, neither of them wanted to test how well their ship's armour would stand up to the gun batteries of the _Phoenix_. So instead, the rogue S.P.D. vessels went back to shooting at the other S.P.D. ships instead, who in turn returned their attention to the rogue S.P.D. ships.

"What the hell's the _Phoenix_ doing here?" Captain Steele demanded.

"We don't know sir…"

However, at that moment, a rogue S.P.D. destroyer chose to engage the Alexis, and Steele's attention was drawn away from contemplating the reason of the Phoenix's arrival to the at the time more important duty of keeping his ship and crew intact and alive.

"God darn it, return fire on that ship!"

As his ship's laser batteries opened up with a devastating salvo that was lost in the dozens of other laser batteries firing within the battle space, the _Phoenix_ continued its lingering near the edge of the battlefield, its intentions unknown to all except for the people onboard.

* * *

Kat Manx was not one of those people. Even as the battle raged in front of the _Phoenix_, unknown to everyone who wasn't on the bridge of the _Phoenix_ or everyone who didn't have access to a window, she made her way to Beutat's office once more, utterly confused. She had been ordered by Beutat himself that she was to have the next few weeks as a break, and being told that the Commander wanted to see her more often than not meant that she was to be given as assignment. Of course, it was highly probable that her services might be needed, but then again, there were dozens of other agents that Beutat could've called on, such as Morgana, so that pretty much threw that reason out the window and into the dustbin.

Reaching the elevator that would take her to the level where Beutat's office was located, Kat had more time to think as the elevator rose. Then the _ding_ sounded and the elevator stopped. The ever-present and ever-pleasant female voice announced her stopping floor's various attractions, which in Kat's mind, was rather redundant considering that when someone chose a particular level, they already knew where they were going. After all, these people were the best in their fields across the galaxy: many of them didn't have time to simply wander around the ship. In fact, as she made her way down the hall, her mind idly wandered to the reason why that particular feature was installed on a military ship in the first place.

There had been rumours going around that the elevator had been purchased from a civilian contractor, and as such, the feature had been already built in. Attempts at installing the elevator whilst the ship was still in construction of course, without activating the feature and inputting the various sites to be seen on each level had failed. So, the engineers simply had to activate and use the feature, much to the annoyance of the people who used the elevator.

When her feet had finally carried her to the area outside Beutat's office, she noticed that the Black Ops defending the office were on full alert. Barricades had even been established, and the two mounted guns were still there. Something definitely had Beutat worried now, to the point of paranoia.

"Identification." The Black Ops wasted no time cutting straight to the chase as Kat handed over her ID and was subjected to a variety of other checks.

"Identity confirmed. You are allowed in," the other Black Ops said as Kat walked straight past them.

The doors closed behind her with a _hiss_, and as she approached the office, she noticed that Beutat's erstwhile aide wasn't at his desk. The desk was still piled with various folders and files, and still messy, but the aide was gone. While she didn't think much of it, unless the aide was off running an errand or on his lunch/coffee break, there was no reason for him to be gone. Why was everything going so awry these days?

"Ah Kat," Beutat said, sitting behind his desk. "Come on in, come on in…"

As she made her way and stood in front of Beutat's desk, she noticed that he constantly glanced at the small viewscreen he had on his desk. The screen however was facing him, so she had no idea what it was displaying.

"Did you need something sir?" she asked. "I thought I was off-duty and on leave for a few days."

"Yes, yes, this will only take a minute of your time," Beutat said, taking a gulp of his ever-present coffee. "And are you enjoying yourself?"

"Not exactly, no…it gets a bit dull," Kat answered.

"Oh well, it can't be helped," Beutat himself couldn't help a smirk. "Now Kat, I would like to give you an offer."

"Which is?"

"I know that you won't blindly follow my orders like so many of the others here," Beutat started. "However, what if you swore loyalty to me and whatever I do…and in return, you get a very well of position in the next galactic order…and I tell you where and bring good old Dr. Felix back?"

"Just my loyalty?" Kat seemed to waver temporarily.

"Just your completely loyalty," Beutat nodded.

"…no deal," Kat declared.

"…what?"

"No deal. _You_ don't have my loyalty. My loyalty lies with this organisation's principle," Kat said.

Beutat sighed. "Well Kat, I didn't mean for it to end this way, but I've got no choice, and you've given me no choice either."

He leaned back in his chair, and Kat's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Her suspicion grew even more when her ears picked up on the faint sound of a laser pistol's battery charging up in preparation for firing. Her laser pistol was in the hands of the Black Ops guarding the area so there was no way in hell that the charging pistol would've been her own. There was nobody else in the office except for Beutat, and the noise seemed to be coming from directly under the Commander's desk…

It was Kat's quick reflexes that were her saviour, as well as Beutat's inability to quickly draw his pistol. The long years he had spent as the Commander sitting behind the desk had dulled his fighting abilities, and after all, he hadn't used a pistol in years. Either way, the end result was that Beutat drew his pistol, but couldn't aim it at her fast enough, and so Kat reacted. She immediately dodged to the side, before digging her heels into the floor and springing at the surprised Commander. She jumped when she was two strides away from the desk, and leapt through the air, soaring straight at Beutat. Then she spun around with a roundhouse kick whilst still in the air. Her foot smashed against the side of Beutat's head, knocking it to the side violently while at the same time sending him toppling over to the ground with a crash, very much unconscious.

Kat landed with a thud on both feet behind the now unconscious Commander. She looked back at her handiwork: Beutat now lay on the floor, with a large bruise on the side of his head where she had kicked him, and a small line of drool was coming out of the side of his mouth. Kat grimaced, before cracking her knuckles and exhaling.

"I've been waiting to do that for ages," she said to herself with a small grin. Then that grin faded as she remembered the disc that he had shown her all those months ago. It had to be important, and if he had attacked her…

The door suddenly was smashed open, and a pair of Black Ops stormed in, weapons aimed at her.

"Kill the agent!" one of them cried out, before firing.

Leaping to the side again saved her life as she rolled behind Beutat's desk. A line of lasers blazed through the room as the Black Ops fired almost without restraint. Kat grabbed Beutat's fallen pistol, and remained behind the desk as the Black Ops continued to fire over her head in an attempt to keep her pinned down. However, the desk was raised off the floor, and Kat threw herself down onto her stomach. From here, she could easily see their legs, and nearly smirked to herself, if not for the seriousness of the situation.

Firing a series of lasers at one of the Black Ops leg worked, as the lasers blew through the shin armour (which she knew and had seen to be capable of surviving several laser bolts) and stuck the Black Ops' shin. He cried out and dropped to the floor, even as his buddy turned to see what the commotion was about, and panicked once he saw his buddy writhing on the ground in obvious pain. He started to shout something out, before Kat did the same to him, and seconds later, he found himself in the same position as his buddy.

The victorious agent took a quick moment to leap over the desk and deliver a solid boot to both their armoured heads, knocking both unconscious. After quickly checking that the two of them were still breathing, Kat stood up and started for the door, before pausing. There was something she had to help herself to.

Quickly making her way around the desk (there was no more need for subtlety anymore, not after the two Black Ops had blasted recklessly away), she found and hit the control for the security bulkhead that would seal off Beutat's office from anyone outside. The bulkhead slid down, and she heard shouts and yells outside before the bulkhead sealed itself in place, giving Kat the time she needed to retrieve the disc without the other two Black Ops outside interfering. Now that she was behind the desk, she hurriedly searched for the secret compartment where Beutat kept the Chimera portion of the data disc.

"Bingo," she smiled after a minute of near frantic searching. The compartment popped open, and a small black box sat in it. In fact, the box was the only item that was in the compartment. She opened it, and indeed, the portion of the distinctive red and gold data disc was there.

Kat allowed herself a small grin before sliding the box into one of her many jacket pockets. Before leaving, she stooped down near one of the unconscious Black Ops, and unzipped and unbuckled his armoured vest. Her own vest, which saw seldom use, was stowed away in her locker, and she wasn't content to go about fighting the multitudes of Black Ops without some armour: she also knew that the Black Ops armoured vests were quite effective against lasers to a certain degree. And it was a long way off towards the shuttle launch bays, where she wanted to go: she wanted to escape the trap that was the _Phoenix_. Or at least, the hellhole she knew it was going to become. A hellhole of highly trained Black Ops most likely blasting away at each other, a hellhole of explosions, lasers and even more explosions.

Zipping up the zip, and buckling up the various buckles, Kat was finally suited up in the vest, grumbling about the sheer number of things that held it together. Then again, she had to consider herself lucky: she didn't have to suit up in the full combat armour that the Black Ops wore to every mission. That included the vest, the shin armour, several pieces along the arms, and even armoured gloves. _That must be a pain to put on and take off_, she thought to herself, holstering the pistol and grabbing one of the rifles off the ground.

Once more stepping over to Beutat's desk, she reached for the control that would open the blast doors. Before tapping that particular button though, Kat looked down at Beutat's unconscious form. His face was sporting a large and ugly-looking bruise, courtesy of her foot when she had kicked him. She briefly entertained the idea of kicking him again, but held off. Sure, she had authorisation to kill when necessary, but that didn't make her heartless or cruel. Instead, Kat settled for a remark that he probably wouldn't hear.

"Next time you try to kill me…try harder and have a better plan than simply shooting me," she said to her now ex-Commander, before hitting the button and springing away from the desk to the side of the office, rifle aimed squarely at the opening bulkhead.

The first Black Ops in full combat armour save for the helmet came charging right through the half-opened bulkhead, and walked straight into Kat's sights. She fired a quick burst that knocked him down and another that blasted his rifle out of his grip and reach. The other Black Ops outside yelled something incomprehensible, and sprayed the room with lasers whilst staying outside. None of the shots he fired came anywhere close to hitting Kat, who was staying off to the side of the door, but not daring to poke her head out.

"Backup! I need backup! Agent Manx is still alive, rogue and extremely dangerous!" she heard the Black Ops yell, before recognising the voice as Colonel Aiola's. "Squads Alpha-One to Alpha-Four, move up and reinforce my position, on the double!"

Kat groaned inwardly. While she was good, all modesty aside, there was simply no way for her to take on forty Black Ops and survive. Which meant that she had to break out and head off and away from this area, fast, if she wanted to avoid being boxed in and slowly worn down. Grabbing a grenade from her pilfered vest, she made sure it was inactive before tossing it out the doorway. The explosive landed with a clink, and even before it landed she was already at the edge of the bulkhead, leaning out. She caught sight of Aiola diving away, and fired.

The burst of lasers caught the Colonel's leg, burning through the unarmoured material and eliciting a curse of pain, which was followed by another one as he ran into the wall. Seeing as no one was running up yet, Kat made her way to the injured Colonel. He had smacked his armoured head against the wall when Kat had shot him as he dove away, and now sat up against it, seemingly dazed. He stopped being dazed the moment Kat walked into his vision, and reached for his sidearm, wincing as a pain shot up his leg.

"Drop the pistol Colonel," Kat warned, her rifle raised. When he didn't drop it, she quickly stepped forward and yanked it out of his grip. He could barely hold it steady, let alone actually maintain a strong grip.

"Now, what's going on?" she demanded.

"You're dead Manx," he coughed. "I told you this day would come, when you should've been on the right side."

"You still haven't answered my question," Kat said, nudging the barrel of the laser rifle against his helmet.

"The age of a new galactic order is dawning, one with Emperor Gruumm at its reins," Aiola said, and he couldn't keep the wistful grin out of his voice.

"And let me guess…this is the uprising, and Beutat's in on it," Kat worked out the rest.

"Still thinking you're so smart, Manx…well, let's see you outsmart hundreds of laser rifles all aimed at you," the rogue Colonel coughed again.

"What is Beutat going to do?" Kat asked sharply, just as she heard the thumping of boots against the floor, announcing the arrival of the back up Black Ops.

"You won't live long enough to know," Aiola said.

Kat let out a frustrated sigh, before turning to run further down the corridor. She had no time left to deal with the Colonel now, not with potentially forty Black Ops breathing down her neck. Cries of 'kill/get the agent!' echoed down the hall as the Black Ops rounded the corner where Colonel Aiola sat against the wall. She fired a brief burst back, not succeeding in hitting any of the Black Ops but still succeeding in forcing them back. The Black Ops reacted instinctively, ducking behind cover to avoid the lasers, giving Kat an opportunity to dart away. However, they reacted faster than Kat had anticipated, popping out in multiple attempts to blast her before she got away. Their shots missed, as Kat escaped from their grasp.

"Don't just stand there!" Colonel Aiola shouted at them. "Go, find and kill her! Don't let her escape!"

**

* * *

**

Time: 1819 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Chimera Mobile HQ

_**Phoenix**_**, holding position outside battle space**

Like a pandemic, the fighting had broken out all over the _Phoenix_ in a similar vein to what had happened (and still was happening) across S.P.D.'s _Phoenix_, the S.P.D. Central HQ. Squads of Black Ops squared off, decimating each other in the brutal combat that was spreading like a wildfire to nearly every part of the ship. Curiously enough, the only part of the ship that wasn't completely destroyed or in the process of being completely destroyed was the mall and park area.

In terms of firepower, training and lethality, both sides were roughly even. Even though the turncoat Black Ops theoretically and on paper should've been able to communicate with other turncoat Black Ops, in practice, the sheer amount of communications traffic coming from virtually the entire S.P.D. fleet had all but overloaded and shut down all forms of communications as the main console simply shut down, forcing all squads, turncoat or not, to use radios. Of course, no squad was willing to broadcast their location by actually using them…so in effect, both sides were fighting in the blind.

Another aspect of the turncoat Black Ops plan that had gone very wildly wrong was the plan to pin all the non-turncoat Black Ops down in rather unimportant areas before systematically eliminating each pocket of resistance. However, before they could close a grip around the non-turncoat Black Ops, many of them had slipped through and seized the more 'important areas'. In one particular instance, a squad of Black Ops had grabbed control of the toilets, and held control of them, despite repeated attempts by the turncoat Black Ops to dislodge them from that position.

In other matters, the 'Phoenix Express' as it was named by the crew, the three hundred metre long corridor that lined the _Phoenix's_ spine, was undergoing some of the most vicious fighting ever seen. Dozens of Black Ops squads fought for control of it, both sides setting up barricades and mounted automated emplacements to secure it. The Phoenix Express granted a backdoor access to virtually seventy percent of the _Phoenix_, so the conglomeration of Black Ops there was understandable. Even heavy weaponry amounting to rocket launchers were used, each side often launching barrages of rockets to flush out the opposition or to clear out barricades.

It was for precisely this reason that Kat chose to move through the Phoenix's less-active warzones, mainly through the maintenance corridors, and even through the air vents on occasion. Many other Black Ops knew about these locations, and often, she would encounter them and was forced to engage in battle. The cramped conditions of the maintenance corridors favoured her more often than the heavily equipped and armed Black Ops: by comparison, her pilfered vest and rifle was much lighter than the Black Ops full armour, and that wasn't counting the amount of equipment that Black Ops were so fond of carrying.

Case to point, the air around Kat was being filled with lasers as she sprinted down the narrow maintenance corridor towards a small group of three Black Ops. No less than a metre away from the group, Kat took a leap onto the wall, and pushed off to the other side, before pushing off of _that_ wall and diving straight at the lead Black Ops. Tackling him to the ground and making sure that his head was slammed against the ground with enough force to knock him out before bolting back up with a roundhouse kick that caught another Black Ops to the face, or rather, helmet. It still was enough to disorientate him long enough for Kat to blast him in the arm and leg.

The final Black Ops was just lifting his rifle when the agent grabbed him and slammed him against the wall, knocking away his rifle in the process.

"Where is the rest of your squad?" Kat demanded levelling her pistol against his faceplate. "Black Ops don't travel around in threes: especially not when there's a battle going on."

Faced with a pistol to the face, and not willing to test the pistols' and the faceplates' strength as well as Kat's willingness to pull the trigger, the Black Ops nervously stuttered an answer: whoever it was, they were obviously only just recruited.

"Ambushed…" the Black Ops said, not daring to take his eyes off the pistol's barrel.

"By whom and how many?"

"A squad or two of the others…"

"How many of you are near the hangar?"

"A few…the hangar is not a high priority right now…"

"Good…" Kat mumbled to herself, and almost removed the pistol from the Black Ops faceplate. "Oh, one more thing…"

Finding and undoing the latch that secured the Black Op's helmet, Kat removed it and then punched the Black Ops in the head, dropping him into unconscious.

With the way hopefully clear, ex-Chimera Agent Katherine Manx continued her run towards freedom.

**

* * *

**

Time: 1828 hours, galactic standard time / Location: Central corridor leading to Hangar A72-B

"Hold the line! Hold the damn line!" the Black Ops sergeant was shouting over the laser fire. His squad was the best of the best, having defeated insurrectionist groups thee times their number without any losses multiple times over, and had even routed an entire rebel armoured platoon during the uprising on some far off planet he couldn't remember. So why was it that they couldn't hold back a single person?!

Laser fire slashed past them, before a single grenade was launched. The explosive struck in between them, hurling everyone around it some distance away.

Further down the room, Kat stood with a laser rifle, the underslung grenade launcher smoking. Those Black Ops were the last obstacles remaining in her quest to get to the shuttle in the hangar, and out of the death trap that was the entire _Phoenix_.

"Useless thing," Kat muttered, looking at the rifle's depleted battery. She shook her head, before dropping it and running for the hangar.

The hangar was a massive expanse of a room, and above her were a series of catwalks that spanned across the room. To the left was a bank of consoles that undoubtedly monitored the various craft that was kept in the hangar, and to the right were a series of tubes that led down to the emergency escape pods. And most importantly, right in front of her, a small number of shuttles, all hopefully fully fuelled and ready to fly.

Kat had taken no more than a few steps forward when she heard yelling above her, and a Black Ops was blasted off the catwalk and landed right in front of her. The feline agent winced as the body hit the ground.

"Well, well, if it isn't Kat Manx…what a surprise," a voice said from above her.

Kat looked up, to see Morgana, suited up in her ridiculous battlesuit. The other agent leapt off the catwalk and landed in front of her in a kneeling position, before getting back up, a smirk playing across her face.

"Morgana…what do you want?" Kat asked, not taking her eyes off Morgana.

"What else? Stopping you from getting away," she grinned, her hand touching the laser pistol strapped behind her belt.

Kat also reached for her own pistol, facing down her last barrier. Their hands touched their holstered weapons at the same time, before they whipped out the pistols and fired.

As soon as Kat's first shot had left the barrel, she was already moving to the left. Morgana moved to the right, her own pistol firing. They tracked each other, blasting away as they attempted to make their movements as erratic and unpredictable as possible. Lasers filled the air as they ducked, weaved and fired with years of experience behind them. Kat rolled forward, avoiding a pair of lasers which flew overhead. As soon as she was up, her pistol was already firing. Morgana jumped to the right, and cartwheeled to dodge the next shot. They fired the next pair of shots at the same time, as they both executed the same spin through the air, though in opposite directions to avoid the same shot. They landed on the ground at the same time, jerking their pistols up and levelling it with each other's face. Kat pulled the trigger fist, her pistol levelled directly between Morgana's eyes. Nothing came out.

Her pistol was expended.

Morgana grinned at her opponent's plight, before pulling the trigger of her own pistol. A dry wheeze greeted her.

Her pistol was dry as well.

It was Kat's turn to grin, before tossing her pistol away, and assuming a low combat stance. Morgana grimaced, before carelessly throwing her pistol into a corner, and drawing a large, curved knife.

They stood, waiting for each other to make a move, watching every single movement. Morgana, more confident with her blade against Kat's bare hands, made the first move. She lunged forward with a battle cry, raising her blade above her head. Kat, reacting to her charge, sprung forward, ramming her shoulder into Morgana's stomach before the blade could come down on her. Despite being winded, Morgana took a step back, before spinning around with a kick that slid in before Kat could block it. Kat reeled back, and taking advantage of this, Morgana lunged forward with her knife. Kat twisted away in the nick of time, though the blade managed to cut her armoured vest before leaping back and putting some distance between her and Morgana.

"Is that the best you can do? Hmph, and I was hoping for a challenge," Morgana taunted, lifting her head up as if to emphasise her superiority.

"Oh, I'm just getting warmed up," Kat replied, removing her vest and throwing it down beside her. Unburdened, she took up her stance again, before beckoning Morgana on with a crooked finger.

Sensing her defiance, Morgana yelled something, before charging at her. She didn't jump into the air again, and went for a slash across Kat's chest. Kat ducked underneath, and came up with a fist that hammered the other agent's cheek, and then another blow before kicking Morgana in the stomach. She lunged forward, but Morgana was ready this time, dropping her knife and grabbing Kat before lifting her over her shoulder and slamming her back on the ground. She leapt up, intent on landing her elbow on Kat's stomach. Kat rolled at the last minute, flipping back on her feet, and coming in with a solid kick that snapped Morgana's head back and sent her backflipping to the floor.

"Had enough?" Kat asked, breathing heavily as Morgana got back up.

"Not until one of us lies dead!" Morgana nearly screamed, before running at Kat.

"If that's your wish!" Kat shouted back, running forward to meet Morgana's charge, her fist raised.

She struck first, though Morgana blocked it aside with her forearm, before slamming her other arm across Kat's face. Kat blocked the next blow, before answering with one of her own that nicked Morgana's cheek as she twisted her head to the side, but not fast enough to avoid the entire hit. She attacked, only to be blocked by Kat, who counterattacked, which Morgana deflected aside.

On and on they continued, battling it out in perhaps one of the most intense battles in the entire conflict as two opponents of nearly equal skilled duelled to defeat their rival.

Eventually, even the best had to tire out, and ten minutes of fighting later, both were nearly at their limits.

"Just…give…up…" Kat panted, wiping away a trickle of blood from a small gash on her cheek with the back of her hand.

"Not…until…you lie…dying…on the floor…" Morgana answered, equally out of breath. She spat out blood on the floor, before sluggishly lifting her arms up in preparation for the next attack.

Both were covered in bruises, cuts and gashes, though Morgana seemed to be more affected than Kat, who also moved her arm with the same tiredness. Mustering up her reserves, Kat once again went on the offensive, aiming low. Morgana twisted away, before jumping up to avoid a sweep kick from Kat. She landed, and immediately threw a punch that Kat caught, though only just barely. She threw the fist away, before lunging forward with a punch of her own that connected.

Morgana stumbled back, before tripping and falling right next to her dropped and almost forgotten knife. Picking it up, she stood back up and avoided Kat's next attack, before using the handle as a bludgeon. Kat avoided that attack as well, though in her tired state, she made the mistake of leaping back too far, and nearly losing her footing. It was all the distraction Morgana needed, jumping in with her knife.

Kat screamed as the knife bit into her upper arm, dropping to a knee and instinctively lifting a hand to cover the wound, a wound that was now bleeding from the deep cut. Morgana, looking triumphant, went for the final stab, but Kat fell to the floor, and kicked her shin out from under her. With a startled yell, Morgana fell to the floor as Kat got back up, lifting her hand from her wound with a wince. Her hand was sticky with blood, and she knew that if the battle dragged out any longer, her chances of winning would deteriorate dramatically with the current rate of blood loss.

Morgana got back up, and looked up to see Kat flying towards her, and took the kick in full before her tired arms could come up to block. She skidded back to where the numerous shuttles were on the deck, and got back up, stumbling as a wave of dizziness overcame her. Her head was swimming, and ached from the number of times it had been hit. Kat was already running at her, seemingly inspired by her wound to win. Morgana's hand holding the knife was raised, ready to stab. Kat's foot came up and kicked the knife out of her hands. Morgana clutched her hand, and realised her mistake in hesitating as Kat struck her with an uppercut, before kicking her against the side of a shuttle, hard.

The knife clattered to the floor, and Morgana slowly slumped against the side of the shuttle, too tired to even move. Kat bent over, her hands resting on her knees, before looking up at the sound of running boots. Morgana looked up though groggy eyes, to notice Kat was running for the escape pods to the right of the hangar. The wounded agent all but threw herself in, and punched in the launch codes and sealed the airlock. A team of rogue Black Ops stormed in, just in time to see the escape pod launch, taking it and its passenger to freedom.

"Damn you…" Morgana seethed, unsteadily getting back up. "_Damn you, Manx_!"

* * *

Final Note: I wrote the last battle scene whilst listening to epic duelling music. No, not Duel of the Fates…I recommend a little number called 'Shinjitsu no Kao' by Nishida Masara, which was on repeat the entire time. I think it's on Youtube. Go check it out, and listen to it whilst reading Kat's battle with Morgana ;)


End file.
